


we're at the end of our lines.

by thenatromanov



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Steve, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Cries, Bucky Dies, Clintasha - Freeform, Dirty Jokes, Dom! Bucky, Emotional Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Smut, Feels, Fluff, Gay Sex, Gay Smut, M/M, METAL ARM, Mental Abuse, Mental Torture, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Relationships, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Pepperony - Freeform, Physical Abuse, Plot Development, Professor AU, Protective Natasha, Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve is a virgin, Stucky - Freeform, Sweet Talking, Thanksgiving, Top Bucky, annoying natasha, bucky gets raped, bucky has anxiety, bucky outs steve, bucky sucks steve off, cheek kisses, cheesy dates, dirty secrets, dirty talking, implications of office sex, intense angst, intense mario kart, long confessions, platonic buckynat, platonic stevetasha, platonic stevexsam, platonic stony - Freeform, post serum steve, professor barnes kink, rell i hate you, sam is a good bro, severe accident, sexual innuendo, slight platonic stucky, steve gets hit, steve gets outed, stucky anal sex, stucky cuddling, stucky multiple orgasms, sub! Steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-08-30 09:23:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 70,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8527741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenatromanov/pseuds/thenatromanov
Summary: And then as Steve ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit, he caught a glimpse of Bucky's smile. And it wasn't his usual trademark smirk, or his sexy half smile, or his cheeky lip - quirk, but a real, honest smile. It was a lovely smile that stretched towards his eyes, exposing his laugh lines and making his eyes crinkle at the corners. It was the light - up - your - world smile, the one that could melt glaciers and end world poverty. It was tender and vulnerable and honest, and Steve was 100% sure he had never seen Bucky smile the way he was doing so now.Steve could write a fifty thousand word essay on how Bucky's smile was the most radiant sunset in the world, the brightest star in the galaxy, the most beautiful ocean in the world. But then he realized that the reason why he truly loved Bucky's smile was because it gave him a rare sense of contentment and hope. It made him feel safe and cherished and warm. It made him feel important and necessary.It made him feel loved.Bucky made him feel loved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this story is dedicated to my joie.  
> i wrote this because i wanted it to be your birthday present, and that was why i even started. if it wasn't for that, this would have been stuck in my head for a long, long time. you are the sunshine of my soul, the light of my life. this isn't much, neither is it original with my own characters, but it is something i worked hard on. it is for you, joie, and i just want to tell you that i'm a little bit better because of you. so this is for you, Rell.
> 
> many thanks ( actually none HAHA ) to Steph. my main marvel hoe. the one person who totally believed in my writing capabilities, tolerated the WEIRDEST questions, and saw this story from the start to the end. i will read some shitty larry fanfic in thanks. 
> 
> credits to the writers ( all four of them ) who wrote the smut scene(s) for me and my amateur self over here. thanks for spicing things up for steve and bucky, as well as adhering to all the kinks, contexts and requirements. i shall get better at talking about how bucky can shove his cock up steve's butt. soon.
> 
> NOTE: my editor only started to beta my work from chapter 7 onwards, so any lack of capitalization or any grammar mistakes before chapter 7 are mine

Steve pulled on the collar of his starched white shirt as he closed the door of his car a tad bit harder than he meant to.

breathe, Steve.

he walked towards to general office with faux confidence, trying not to feel intimidated by the size of Shield University.

The hallways were mostly empty, save the few students who were dashing to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee before they resigned themselves to a four hour lecture. The floors were marble white, aesthetically pleasing yet all they seemed to do was emphasize how utterly high class Shield was. Being accepted as the school's English and Literature professor was something Steve had been dreaming of since he was fifteen. now at the age of twenty eight he had emerged valedictorian at Shield itself, spent five years learning how to be a professor and finally, finally, finally, finally after six interviews, gotten his title as a teacher.

the door of the office was glass, with two solid oak handles in an intricate flowery design and the university's motto right above it, in swirling black calligraphy painted by an art student some fifty years ago. " Sweetheart, are you going to stand there and inhale loudly for the next eight hours? "

Steve jumped, heart rate spiking, as a woman pushed the door open, her bright eyes twinkling with laughter and a hand on her hip. he blushed and looked away before saying, embarrassed, " I'm Steve. uh... Steve rogers? " it came out like a question.

how in the world was this blushing, stuttering, insecure man going to bring students their degrees? he chided himself internally.

the woman held the door open for him, shaking her head fondly as he tried vainly to come up with a coherent sentence after she shook his hand and led him into the office. " Peggy. I'm assuming from your detailed explanation that you're the - " she checked a piece of paper, " - new lecturer for English and Literature? " Steve nodded, trying to mask his internal face palming into one of calm and dignity.

it did not work.

Steve managed to confirm a few of his particulars and fill up some forms after stuttering too much and making a moron of himself despite Peggy's charming smile and easygoing demeanor (she made him a cup to hot tea when he completely lost his shit and dropped everything in his hands and letting an embarrassed tear slip out of the corner of his eye. )

amazing job, Steve.

" the staff room is on the second floor, go up the stairs on your right outside the office, then it's on the left corridor, think you can do that without burning the school down? " she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice. Steve rolled his eyes, already warming up to this friendly, cheerful woman who had offered him a packet of skittles and her own hand drawn map of the school right after he sat down for registration.

" i can't say i'll promise not to, " Steve joked, willing his scarlet face to turn back to its normal shade of ivory as she stood up to show him the way, " I'm pretty damn hot. "

Peggy snorted loudly, loud, childish noise that made her sound a lot younger than the forty year old she was, and Steve knew there and then that he liked her. " of course, professor rogers. sometimes you're also too damn humble for your own good. " she teased, poking Steve in the ribs and ducking when he swatted at her playfully.

the staff room was exactly where Peggy had said it was. and before Steve rested his palm on the cool surface for a moment, taking deep breaths. His inhaler was in his pocket, but he didn't need it. He was going to be okay.

he'd been looking forward for this day for the past six months.

Steve checked his reflection in his phone. His hair was a bit too neat, his tie too straight, his shirt too white. He looked like the embodiment of a nerdy student. Before he could consider his plan properly, he ran a hand through the sunshine yellow mop, mussing it up, loosened his tie slightly and smiled at his phone screen.

All this time, he could hear Peggy's voice in his head, her red lips twisted into a smirk and her laugh lines covering her cheeks.

suck it up, rogers.

-

holy shit.

the staff room was large enough that Steve actually felt his jaw drop ( it was a great aesthetic on his part, or so he tried to tell himself. )

it seemed that Shield University cared a lot for aesthetics because the room was painted a soothing cream colour, with high arching ceilings and two floor to ceiling windows, both with window seats, the floor was a plush burgundy carpet, and the whole room smelled like polished mahogany and firewood. 

" well, well, well, look's like we've got fresh blood. Welcome to the staff room, mi casa su casa, even though i work here, i designed this place so technically it's mi casa. Now it's su casa. I don't think this is correct Spanish, but I trust Google Translate. I'm Tony Stark, and I teach engineering and architecture, I'm very hot and -" man seemed to appear out of nowhere, and his voice echoed loudly in the cavernous space. He had messy brown hair and was sporting a perfectly pressed suit in a deep magenta colour. he gaped openly at Steve, seizing him up, before saying quietly, " So are you, gorgeous. "

he whipped off his Gucci sunglasses with a flourish before seizing Steve's hand and pumping it up and down for a solid five seconds.

Steve smiled back, albeit hesitantly, after he had recovered from the initial shock and the mini heart attack and replied nervously, " Steve, and i'll be teaching English and Literature starting day after tomorrow. "

tony smiled even wider, " you have an incredible shoulder to waist ratio. I'm not even kidding. i bet my Armani underwear that like, 70% of your weight is muscle mass. "

while Steve blushed and stuttered for the three billionth time and dropped his folder, Tony was roughly shoved aside and Steve's hand was grabbed and pumped up and down again.

" HELLO I'M CLINT BARTON " The man had a buzz cut and forearm the size of Steve's neck. he too, wore a grin the size of America and his eyes held were glimmering with mischief.

" AND I TEACH - "

Steve flinched at the volume of his voice.

" Clint if you shout one more time i will personally set you on fire or throw you out of the window or both. "

" -BUSINESS AND ADVERTISING " Clint finished triumphantly, throwing yet another man with shoulder length blonde hair a smug grin., whipping off Tony's sunglasses, slapping them haphazardly on his own face, and making finger guns.

the final teacher was much more subdued, with shoulder length blond hair and was a head taller than Steve. He shook Steve's hand like a normal person would and said, quite conversationally, " i'm Thor and I teach psychology. " Steve smiled at him, his confidence rising slightly as they all surrounded him and started making small talk, automatically including him in conversation. Even though his ear was buzzing slightly from Clint's shouting, and his palm was slightly swollen where Tony had shook it with a strength that rivaled a 7.3 magnitude earthquake, Steve allowed the tension to leave his shoulders.

He was about to go to his allocated desk after Clint started shouting and Tony started to tackle him ( Thor quickly darted in front of Steve and pushed him towards the safety of his own desk ) and unpack when the door was shoved open and two people walked in.

the first was a stunningly beautiful woman with hair the colour of rubies and she wore an a-line skirt that made her waist look three inches wide and her legs, six feet. she looked achingly familiar, and Steve was sure he saw her somewhere before.

" hi, I'm Steve, " he began, smiling hesitantly. the redhead paused, dropping the stack of paper in her arms. her mouth fell open and she stuttered, " S-Steeby? "

and everything clicked.

this was Natasha, his best friend since they were seven. they were partners in crime, he had bought her ice cream and cookies when she had her first breakup, she had beat up the boy who called Steve a faggot when he was twelve, but Natasha moved from Brooklyn when they were thirteen and they'd lost touch, and somehow, against all odds, Steve's best friend was here, she had grown so tall, she looked stunning, and she had remembered Steve's childhood nickname.

" Natty! " Steve all but screamed her childhood nickname, losing his poised demeanor as he flung his arms wide and Natasha barreled in for a bear hug. his best friend was here. she was here in his workplace. she was still wearing the silver bracelet he had given her as a going away present and she remembered Steve.

Natasha was back in his life where she belonged.

when they broke apart, Steve felt so happy his grin threatened to break his face. Thor, Clint and Tony were gaping at the two of them, obviously confused by their affection for each other, and Tony muttered something about not getting hugged by " the dorito ". Steve ignored him.

" oh my goodness, Steeby! you look incredible, i didn't believe I'd see you again in my whole life! " Natasha gasped, talking in three hundred words a minute, the way she always did, as she hugged Steve again.

" Steeby? "

"don't ask. "

" we were best friends, " Natasha said, picking up her strewn papers as she explained herself.

" since we were seven, " Steve continued.

" but we lost touch when i moved from Brooklyn, " she concluded seamlessly, smiling fondly at Steve.

" i also married Clint, still regretting my " I do". " Natasha joked, as the rest dispersed and she sashayed back to her table, not before removing the silver band on her finger and passing it to Steve so he could take a look at it.

it was after Steve had passed the ring back, his heart joyous and his smile huge that he realized that there was one person who had remained completely silent.

Natasha picked up his puzzled gaze immediately before dragging the last teacher to introduce Steve to him. " this is James, but we all call him Bucky, so you should too. he teaches Russian literature. " Natasha said awkwardly, since Bucky was busy shooting daggers at the blond.

" uh, i'm Steve. nice to meet you, Bucky. "

" James. "


	2. Chapter 2

Steve didn't know how to react to this unfriendliness, but all thoughts of that evaporated when he took a proper look at James.

Dark onyx hair until his shoulders, his eyes were a pale brown, which were currently narrowed in malice. his shoulders were broad and Steve bet every single cell in his body that this six foot two Adonis standing before him had a six pack. The white button down he was sporting did amazing things for the well sculpted biceps and good lord, his pants were so tight it might be criminal. James' thighs were sinfully shapely and when he turned away to walk to his desk, Steve's heart hammered too wildly at the sight of his rear, with his hips swaying and Steve cursing inwardly, gripping the edge of his desk, trying to repress every single thought that was whipping around his head with frightening speed, most of which involved James' sinfully pink lips on his neck, or his own hands threading through the silky mop that definitely took hours to perfect, but looked effortlessly chic anyway.

James looked good.

screw that, James looked like the literal definition of a wet dream.

Steve took deep breaths as he sat down, trying to focus his thoughts on anything else, before facing his table where Natasha sat with her feet on his desk, filing her nails.

" so. "

she began like she did every single time they had a conversation.

Steve unpacked his things, glaring at her when she mouthed " bucky " and shook her shoulders suggestively at him, throwing in a saucy wink and then kicking Steve pointedly when he attempted to ignore her. " James seems to hate me. " Steve murmured as James ( Bucky? ) walked past, not before throwing a scathing look at him. He turned back to Natasha with an ' I told you so ' look.

The redhead chewed the inside of her cheek as she kicked off her stilettos ( one landed on the floor, the other hit Steve's stomach ) " Maybe he doesn't feel sociable because he doesn't know you, " she tried, offering a halfhearted grimace.

Steve flipped her off as he resumed stacking folders and plugged in his laptop.

Natasha's grimace melted into a smirk as she leaned forward, " You think he's hot. "

" I think he's hot? of course i don't, Natty, he literally looks like the manifestation of a wet dream. " Steve shot back, sticking out his tongue. he elbowed Natasha roughly in the ribs when her smirk began to resemble Tony's and she took the opportunity to hook her feet behind his knee, making him crash ungracefully onto the edge of his table.

" who's the wet dream? " Clint asked, strolling over with a massive coffee mug before climbing comfortably onto Natasha's lap, winding his arms around her waist and smiling expectantly at Steve, not realizing that Natasha was stealing sips of his coffee.

Steve groaned.

" Also please don't manhandle my wife, " Clint continued serenely, hugging Natasha around the waist.

Steve was about to say that he didn't really have any plans to abuse her in front of her husband but Clint spoke first, moving his coffee mug away from Natasha.

" She has a black belt in karate and hand to hand combat training. It's mostly for your sake not hers. "

Steve rolled his eyes for what seemed like the six hundredth and fifty eighth time this morning, " Clint, i was the one who signed us up for classes. "

Clint guffawed before jumping agilely off Natasha and saying with a flourish, shoving Natasha's grabby hands away and walking away with the coffee mug balaned on the top of his head, " have fun fighting, but i want to get some good stuff on Snapchat so don't die. "

The redhead chucked Steve's stapler at Clint, and it hit him ( with devastating accuracy ) right at his crotch.

And then they fist bumped for the first time in more than ten years, executing all fourteen finger snapping, hand slapping moves with the same accuracy of two twelve year olds.

-

Steve was forced to update his best friend over every single detail of his life that had happened in the past decade.

 

they went fact by fact, alternating after each person had said something that the other didn't know. ( Steve tried to be snarky to piss Natasha off. He tried )

" i'm still gay. "

" i know, rogers. and i have a dog. "

" i think Bucky is hot. "

" i know, Rogers. Uh,i have no kids. "

" i am obsessed with tacos. "

" i know, rogers. Clint bought me a Mercedes Benz. "

" i took up the piano. I've already finished my diploma. "

" holy shit, rogers. Okay, i took up sharpshooting. i have a licence and shit. You can't ask, but I got discharged so here I am. "

" i have a six pack. "

" I'm divorcing Clint so i can marry you right now. a six pack? shoot me. "

" gladly. "

Steve was running out of things to say, and he'd skipped lunch to talk to Natasha, which was probably why desperation and hunger had led him to blurt out the thing that he had been actively trying to avoid saying.

" I'm still a virgin. "

" HOLY SHIT, STEVE ROGERS YOU WHAT? " Natasha yelled, standing up and slamming a fist on his desk before letting out an impressive litany of vulgarities in Russian. ( Steve took note of how much she intimidated her colleagues, for Tony simply stuffed earplugs into his ears after she pointedly ignored his consistent throat clearing. Clint simply removed his hearing aids. )

Even though she was a head shorter than he was and he had a black belt in karate and could throw a deadly punch, Steve still shrunk back, intimidated by his fiery best friend before turning scarlet and looked away before nodding his head.

all he wanted was a nice committed relationship with someone, was that too much to ask?

Natasha, thankfully, had outgrown her old tactlessness, and Steve was really quite grateful when she slung an arm around his shoulder ( she stood on his chair ) and said gently, " it's okay if you don't want to talk about it. "

He leaned into her touch, trying to formulate his thoughts into words, as well as inhaling her trademark perfume ( Chanel No. 5, nothing else ). And it hit him hard when he realized that he hadn't been hugged or anything for a few months and he was just a little, tiny, minuscule bit touch starved.

just a little bit.

not much.

really.

"it's okay. i just, I've just... i had three boyfriends before this and they were all flings and affairs and i didn't want them. i didn't even like them, " Steve laughed harshly and forced a smile and wave when Tony left the room with Clint and Thor. Bitterness stung his chest as he tried to regulate his breathing. Again.

" and so i stopped. maybe i was hoping i'd find someone who i truly love and whose company i enjoy very much and maybe i'd be happy. i want to date someone, natty. i want to go on stupid cheesy dates and go to cliche restaurants and do dumb date things and go to dumb date places and i want this to last, " He finally admitted, his chest feeling ten times lighter when Natasha leaned her head on his shoulder. He allowed himself exactly seven seconds to stare at Bucky tying his hair ( Good lord, his fingers ) before facing her unwillingly

" and i don't know. i can't find anyone whom i like really like past the whole 'eye candy' stage, and it's not really fun to be in this position, you know? i don't want to kiss a stranger or grind against someone in a bar. i'm such a romantic at heart and honestly, " he laughed harshly again before spitting, " who would want me? "

Natasha pulled away and smiled at him tentatively, " tell you what, Rogers, you can come over tonight and Clint, you and i will play six hundred rounds of monopoly and drink some great white wine and i promise you'll feel better. " she said, as usual expecting him to agree even though she never phrased plans with him as a question. He remembered the only time she had done so, was when he was six.

too wimpy, she argued once.

She showed him how to operate the printer( ROGERS! Why the hell are you trying to eject the cartridges? ), and the coffee machine( IT SAYS MILK. ROGERS, IT SAYS MILK HERE. ), told him she was the substitute teacher in charge and by the time she was leading him back to the staff room after buying sandwiches in the cafeteria, Steve had cheered up considerably from the constant yet familiar snubs.

until Bucky -

the six foot two Adonis appeared when they rounded the corner and smiled ( good lord, Steve almost got a boner ) at Natasha. " dinner at my place tonight at 730 right? " he asked, ignoring Steve completely ( Steve tried to convince himself that being ignored was a step higher than being glared at. It did not work )

which was like a small jab at Steve's chest with a burning red hot knife the size of a wall.

Natasha threw Steve a sidelong glance before saying apologetically, " Steve is coming over tonight...", allowing Steve to sneak a glance at the brunet only to see a momentary flash of anger in his eyes before the handsome features smoothed themselves out into a mask of indifference that fooled nobody. When he spoke, his voice was a melodious baritone, but his eyes gleamed with hatred as he opened his mouth.

" of course. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi @ my 2.5 friends ( rell, steph and jun, who is kinda like half here half there ) i'm so sorry this is pure shit lmao i wrote it in July and istg my writing was SO SHIT THEN HAHAHA I SWEAR IT GETS BETTER I'M A LOT BETTER AT WRITING ABOUT BUCKY GRINDING AGAINST STEVE THAN I AM AT PLOT DEVELOPMENT OKAY *cries* i swear y'all better leave some bomb ass kudos because editing this was like selling my soul to Satan. legit.  
> 1\. rell: you're buying when we watch Fantastic Beasts together.  
> 2\. Steph: Genki Sushi together soon? :)  
> 3\. Jun: HEY HOE MY MUM WANTS TO KNOW IF YOU WANNA COME OVER.


	3. Chapter 3

when Steve knocked on the door of Natasha and Clint's house later in the evening, he was yanked inside unceremoniously and before he could shrug off his jacket, Clint had thrust a glass of wine into his hand and pulled him impatiently into the lounge where Natasha was counting a massive stack of paper money and swearing quietly under her breath.

Clint smiled brightly at Steve before flopping onto Natasha's lap, trying to throw her off balance with his weight, " now you're here, you can help me expose my cheating wife and kick her butt for stealing sixteen dollars from me just now. "

Memory of how Natasha never playing a game without cheating when they played together, but always lost when Steve had enough and treated the game like a war, and started military style strategizing.

Natasha flipped him the finger, kicked him sharply on the leg before throwing a yellow piece at Steve and a stack of paper money ( she had stolen four dollars off him before he even started ). " You're late, Steeb. "

And so they began.

Clint gave up exactly seven minutes when Natasha upped her stealing game and robbed Clint of seventeen dollars before Steve stole of two of Natasha's properties right under her nose.

Natasha gaped. " you bastard. "

Steve winked at Clint, who leapt to his feet to feet to give Steve a standing ovation, " she can't beat me. "

He got a finger in his face. " screw you, rogers. "

Beside him Clint laughed again at Natasha's blatant attempt at cheating by throwing two of Steve's buildings back into the box and replacing them with her own.

when the blond finally got too exasperated to continue, Natasha phoned for pizza ( Clint was trying to bake a pie but he took out the batteries from his hearing aids and the timer went off when I was bathing and he was chilling in the living room until the fire alarm sounded. Sorry, Steeb. Fuck you, Clint. ) and the three sat around, chatting idly.

as Natasha settled her head on Clint's lap, Steve was yet again reminded of how much he wanted to lie in bucky's lap and - 

you are looking for a real relationship, Steven.

but Bucky -

no.

it was a mark of their friendship that Natasha knew exactly what Steve was thinking for she sat up and in the gentlest voice he had ever heard, asked him, eyebrows furrowed in sympathy, " was it what happened today? "

obviously it was.

stupid Bucky with his stupid beautiful eyes and his stupid amazing jawline and his stupid silky hair and his stupid broad shoulders and his stupid muscular chest and his stupid stomach and his stupid flawless biceps and his stupid dreamy ass and his stupid shapely thighs, his stupid calf muscle goals and his stupid musician's fingers and his stupid sexy baritone of a voice and his - 

Clint spat out his mouthful of wine, and it was in this exact moment when Steve realized he said everything out loud and was ready to throw himself off the nearest skyscraper.

Natasha rolled her eyes. " I'm sorry Steeby, but this one intense hell of an infatuation. "

Steve was ready to stab her for her blatant lack of sympathy, after he was done stabbing himself.

get over yourself, Steve.

Steve turned scarlet and took an extra large gulp of wine in order to hide his shame. Natasha was right. he was in this deep. There was a pregnant silence as Natasha and Clint communicated solely through elbow jabs and raised eyebrows and Steve sat on his beanbag, hoping for a zombie apocalypse to distract them.

no such luck.

Clint smiled sympathetically before hitting Steve with the most cliche line that Steve had ever heard in any movie, " you should try to talk to him. "

Steve rolled his eyes, snorted and facepalmed in an effort to hide how stung he was by the impossibility of such an easy task. " yes, and then i should ask him out on a date, ignoring possible heterosexuality on his part and if I'm still not fried by his glares, take him out to dinner. " The whole thing was so utterly ridiculous that Steve was ready to slam his head on the wall behind him, but was saved by the doorbell.

Natasha stood up, fifty dollars in her hand as she paid the delivery guy. it was pouring outside, and Steve almost envied the rain clouds.

Bucky ( Good Lord, that delectable, beautiful - ) didn't glare at them.

he heard Clint murmur, " but he seemed to hate Steve the moment he laid eyes on him. "

Steve took a large bite of his seafood pizza in icy silence and tried not to get frustrated. at this point he didn't even mind if Bucky was the most straight person on earth, Steve would be perfectly content if they could be friends.

Acquaintances, maybe. At least.

-

nobody really felt like addressing the elephant in the room, so Natasha sat on the floor beside Steve and started talking about the rest of their colleagues, the ones that he hasn't met. " there's Wanda. she teaches foreign languages. " the redhead began began. Clint chimed in,his relief at the change of topic visible on his face, " and we have Pepper, she's tony's wife but she does administration and shit with Peggy and we also - "

they were interrupted by the sound of a key turning in the lock and the sound of the howling wind was quickly cut off when the door was slammed shut.

Bucky stepped into the room, drenched from head to toe and called out for Natasha to bring him some clothes.

Clint said he would, not without glancing at Steve three times on the way out of the room, and Natasha immediately tossed a towel at Bucky, as though it was a regular occurrence that Bucky would waltz right into the house. The drenched brunet accepted it gratefully, smiling at her before his gaze landed on Steve, who was clutching his slice of pizza like a lifeline, gaze raking over Bucky's face so he could memorize the angle of his jaw and the curve of his back. ( Not because he wanted to think about it in the shower or anything. Definitely. )

Steve opened his mouth when tension grew so thick until it seemed visible, and said in a would be casual voice, " hey, bucky. "

Bucky took the dry clothes from Clint with a grateful nod and disappeared into the bathroom. not before muttering, " it's James to you. "

Natasha didn't meet Steve's eyes.

when Bucky emerged holding his wet clothes in a plastic bag, the blond tried to repress a groan at the sight of his dripping hair and the muscled forearms in a too tight shirt.

Clint cast Steve a worried look before offering the silent brunet a slice of pizza, which he declined. " i'm leaving, thanks for the clothes, man. could i borrow an umbrella? " Natasha folded her arms and narrowed her eyes, setting her jaw. " no, you're going to catch pneumonia and die. " Bucky stared at the ceiling for a solid ten seconds and tried to look menacing as he shook his head again. it didn't help his case when he sneezed and continued shivering in the harsh air conditioning of Natasha's home.

Clint tried to help Natasha, casting Steve yet another worried look. " c'mon Bucky. you're going to get even more sick. "

but Bucky would not give in.

" i would rather catch pneumonia and - "

and Steve was hit with a wave of guilt when he belatedly realized that he was the reason why Bucky refused to stay. The fact that he had a KEY to their house said something, but his refusal to stay because of Steve sent another spike of regret through him. Natasha, to her credit, didn't back down in the face of a glaring brunet about two heads taller than her and the two of them scowled at each other, the redhead raising an eyebrow when Bucky sneezed and started shivering.

and Bucky's shoulders slumped. " Nat, please. " and if his previous behavior didn't confirm his hatred towards Steve, this certainly did.

ouch.

Natasha nodded unwillingly and before she could reach for the umbrella stand, Bucky quite literally yanked open the door and fled back out into the pouring rain. The redhead tutted as she flopped back on the floor and Clint mopped up the puddle of water left in Bucky's wake.

there was a long, uncomfortable, painful silence. " he hates me. " Steve finally blurted, confused and hurt.

the silence prolonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was cringing nonstop at this because it's literally the driest and most uneventful thing EVER i'm sorry @ my 2.5 friends i assure you the fluff ( STEPH TAKE NOTES HAHA ) and the smut would be good. then y'all gon be slamming the kudos button like bucky be slamming into steve HAHAHAHHAHAHAH GOODBYE
> 
> xo


	4. Chapter 4

Steve collapsed on the ground below the tree and waited for his second best friend ( Natasha had pointedly established that she was number one ) Sam to catch up with him. it was seven in the morning and Steve panted from the exertion caused by his morning sprint as he squinted at the blob running in his direction. He could barely enjoy the pale violet hues and light cobalt of the sky when Sam appeared and threw a small stone at his calf. " you bitch. how did you get so fast? "

Steve smirked, and the duo moved to the exercise corner to do pull ups. They had a half hour to work out before both of them had to go to Shield at eight thirty. Sam lived in the apartment unit below Steve's and they had shared a dorm in university. ( Natasha had calmly told Sam that he could fuck off from his number one spot on Steve's best friend list because that spot was reserved for her and her only. Sam took it very well. )

plus point, Sam taught aviation and airplane design at Shield, which meant one more familiar person at work.

Steve gripped the bar, adjusted his grip, nodded at Sam and started counting.

one.

two.

three.

four.

five.

he grunted with effort.

six.

seven.

eight.

nine.

his arms were stinging.

ten.

eleven.

twelve.

thirteen.

fourteen.

a bead of sweat rolled down Steve's neck.

fifteen.

sixteen.

seventeen.

eighteen.

nineteen.

twenty.

he let go of the pole and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. Sam swatted at him, having given up at sixteen pull ups before making a very exaggerated rude hand gesture that made a passing old lady clear her throat. After Steve rolled his eyes and shouted an apology, and flipped himself so that he was hanging upside down, and started doing vertical crunches. ( Not that Bucky's toned body was his goal  or anything. )

As they jogged home, he bought a hot cup of ginger tea for said brunet, who was suffering from a flu. Natasha had subtly texted him this, together with a gif of someone wearing a nurse outfit and giving someone a sponge bath. Steve blocked her until Clint had to show up and tell Steve that Natasha's complaining was driving him up the wall.

Only then did Steve relent.

He poured it into a thermos at home with meticulous care, as though the friendship ( or lack thereof ) depended on the flask of tea.

Sam immediately raced towards to cafeteria after they reached, claiming that he needed his breakfast number 2, even though he had devoured a ham and tomato omelette in Steve's car. ( he fed Steve some, bless him. ) The blond parked the car and carefully cradled the flask between his hands, smiling at it like a lovesick and hormonal teenager, hoping Bucky would be sick enough to accept the drink, yet cursing himself for hoping Bucky was sick.

he pushed the door of the staff room open, and Natasha waved at him where she was nursing Coffee No. 3 and painting her fingernails.

She took in the flask when he placed it on his desk before unscrewing the lid and taking a sip.

" i can taste ginger and i am absolutely positive that it's for your brunet eye candy. did he call you like he did for me and tell you he had a stuffy nose or did you stalk him like the lovesick puppy you are? " Natasha smirked and raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow, knowing fully well that he was going to do something when she messaged him about Bucky's state.

his blush was her answer.

Steve carefully wrote DRINK ME in his loopy handwriting and stuck a lime green post it on the flask before tiptoeing across the empty staff room to place it on Bucky's unoccupied desk.

and then he went for his first class, hoping that Bucky liked ginger tea and hated him a bit less.

-

Steve had picked up a plate of questionably fresh tacos and was ready to settle down on his own for lunch when tony waved him over to where he was seated with someone Steve assumed was pepper. ( No one generally looked so cheerful when Tony was right beside them. )

Tony beamed when Steve sat down. " this is my wife, Pep. she's pretty much the biggest piece of shit ever and i love her. " he said as a manner of introduction, and then stole a french fry from his plate.

the woman, pepper, rolled her eyes and threw a slice of cucumber from her sandwich at tony's face. ( he caught it in his mouth. )

She looked scandalized as Tony whipped out yet another different pair of Gucci sunglasses and slapped them onto his face before making suggestive clicking sounds, and Steve found himself smiling albeit hesitantly. " he's saying that, but yet he bought me a seven carat diamond ring and _begged_ me to marry him. " she told Steve, who had kicked tony under the table when he made to steal one of Steve's three tacos.

tony rolled his eyes dramatically before scowling at them both in mock anger and finishing the rest of his drink much louder than was socially acceptable.

tony cleared his throat as he stood up. " well then, i'm going to get my gorgeous ass away from both of you horrible people. see you later, gorgeous. you too, pepper. " he said blowing a kiss at Steve and flinging his napkin at pepper, who batted it away without blinking. Or breaking eye contact with Steve.

she caught steve grinning.

" don't ask. "

 -

when Steve entered the staff room after his last lecture for the day, he found it packed with everyone doing some last minute marking for the day or printing notes. Clint was in the corner throwing BIC pens at everyone's private parts, especially Tony's, with frightening accuracy.

he spotted Bucky drinking deeply from the flask ( _Good Lord,_ his adams apple was - ) and his lips twitched. at least Bucky didn't suspect anyone would poison him.

Natasha, like the true best friend she was, picked up on his smile at once and planted herself on his desk, calmly filing her nails and raising an expectant eyebrow. " yes, steeby. he didn't pour it down the drain. your relationship is serious. invite me to your wedding. " Steve elbowed her in her ribs as hard as he could and finally knew how it felt to have the heel of a stiletto dig into your thigh.

his gaze lingered on Bucky when he waved goodbye to everyone and saw that he had left the flask, together with the post it, on his desk, waiting for the owner to pick it up.

The brunet seemed exhausted, and his hair looked limp and his voice was slightly hoarse.

Natasha snapped her fingers in front of his face. " dammit, Steve. I've been talking about a study in feminine diplomacy and all you've done is stare at Bucky. Grow up, Steeby. "

" and his ass. " came the hardly audible, slightly wistful reply.

Natasha snorted. " of course. and his ass. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This probably my sloppiest editing job out of everything so far because it was doNE AT EIGHT IN THE MORNING AND I'M PROBABLY STILL HALF ASLEEP. I'm sorry.
> 
> @ the 5 strangers who left kudos on this : thanks a lot haha :)  
> @ my 2.5 friends : HELL YEAH Y'ALL I HAVE OVER A HUNDRED HITS HAHAHAHA I'M FAMOUS AND SHIT ALREADY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	5. Chapter 5

The flask was empty, and below Steve's " drink me " Bucky had penned down a grateful " thank you so much! " in scrawling cursive, Steve making smile even wider when he saw that Bucky had drawn a small caricature of himself doing a double thumbs up. ( Bucky even drew his  _dimples_ ).

it wasn't much.

but it was a start.

Steve carefully folded the note and tucked it into his wallet as if it was his most prized pocession before picking up his bag and leaving the staff room, a big smile on his face for reasons he wouldn't tell anyone, not even Natasha.  
  
-  


As Steve sat down in the living room with his plate of home cooked pasta, he focused on convincing himself that he needed to get over Bucky. The thing was, Steve tried to convince himself, he didn't even _know_  Bucky. he didn't know Bucky's personality or his character or the things he liked or anything. All Bucky was right now was incredibly attractive and Steve's massive infatuation stopped there. ( He was not pining. Natasha needed to shut up sometimes. )

done.

Steve put a thermos of ginger tea on Bucky's table for the next two days, each with a different post it note, hoping for more sketched cartoons. Bucky never disappointed, and returned them with more adorable caricatures of himself, one of them a drawing of him holding a small green heart between his hands, another with himself smiling a wide, toothy grin.

Steve saved every single one of them.  


Natasha camped at his apartment the next day until three in the morning, the two of them determined to make up for the time they'd lost and basically ended up doing what sixteen year old teenagers would do.

it was twenty questions.

Steve took a swig of his beer. " how good is Clint? "

Natasha popped another microwave french fry into her mouth, considered the question thoroughly, before answering, " probably the best. "

Steve rolled his eyes, too familiar with Natasha to blush.

however his cheeks turned scarlet when Natasha chewed her hot dog carefully, then grinned wickedly, mustard on her upper lip and ketchup on her teeth. " who was your last boyfriend? "

Steve drank half of her beer and stuck out his tongue.

damn.

Brock has been nothing but the three hours of flirting in the bar, some very sloppy but passionate making out in an alley and a half decent hand job.

Steve, just to make Natasha uncomfortable, told her everything in measured, explicit detail.

she didn't even break eye contact.

-

" oh and Steeby, " Natasha began, " Clint, Tony and Bucky are going to go for drinks on Friday. they told me to tell you before i came over. "

as if on cue, his phone vibrated.

from: TONY STARK.  
_drinks. friday. the bar whose name I've forgotten._

Steve didn't want to mess things up even more with Bucky ( he was an emotional drunk ) and he rejected the offer under the pretense that he had other plans. Natasha seemed personally insulted. " so what, you're gonna be a recluse and never socialize just because Bucky doesn't want to have sex with you? " Steve finished the rest of her beer, then forced her to watch mean girls instead of harry potter as a punishment.

-

tony kicked open the door of the staff room ( this was a regular occurrence. There were foot prints on the wood. ) and hollered across, " STEEBY. WHY ARE YOU NOT JOINING US FOR DRINKS? " Steve cringed ( something he found himself doing very often whenever Tony was around ) at the nickname exclusive to his best friend before answering meekly, " please don't call me Steeby. it's so weird hearing it from you and not Natasha. "

tony chortled before doing the moonwalk ( Clint tried to trip him five times ) to Steve's desk, " why, honey? did she call you that in bed? " Steve grit his teeth and rolled his eyes ( yet _another_ thing he found himself doing increasingly often in Tony's presence ), shoving the older man away just as Natasha sashayed over and leaned in conspiratorially.

_nonononononono natasha!_

" no, because Clint has a bigger dick. "

tony yodeled at the top of his lungs until Sam threw his shoe at tony's head.

Clint leapt onto his desk and took a bow.

-

Steve had planned to have a Star Wars movie marathon during the weekend with Natasha ( He did not invite her, but she never took no for an answer. ).

so much for big plans.

the situation with Bucky still hadn't improved as much as Steve had anticipated it to, but at least Bucky didn't glare at him when they passed each other, or at least, not as viciously as he used to.

Natasha invited Steve over ( Because he was pining, apparently. ) to her house because Steve was a cleanliness freak and Natasha was the same slob she was when they were thirteen. so this arrangement worked in the red head's favor.

and Steve's.

he really needed a distraction from a certain fabulously debonair brunet with perfect dimples and the most amazingly plump pink lips Steve had ever seen. It also gave her a chance to discuss her new favorite topic : the Ginger Tea. He was trying to get her to back off, but everyone was powerless in the face of Natasha Romanoff. And he had resigned himself to quiet resentment. It had all gone downhill because Steve had kept the post its tucked safely in his wallet and forgot about it when his best friend had borrowed money and accidentally saw them. she hadn't let him live since, Steve bet every dollar in his bank account that she was never going to do so. That redhead loved a little dirt and blackmail.

The blond arranged the books on her shelf and stacked them alphabetically before wiping the dust on the shelves carefully with a paper towel. ( It seemed like Clint was a total slob too, judging by the copious amount of dust. )

Natasha was watching glee Christmas specials. for the eight hundredth time. at full volume.

steve almost missed clint's presence.

_almost._

_-_

the phone rang in the midst of Natasha's screaming, swearing and energetic gesticulation at the television and Steve muted it immediately when Natasha saw Clint's number flashing on the screen. the smallest of creases formed between her brows as she answered, her frown deepening as she listened to whatever she was hearing. Steve watched nervously as she dialed Pepper, gave her the location of the bar where tony, clint and bucky seemed to be passing out in.

Natasha turned to Steve, who was already wearing his shoes.

" Clint took the car, " Steve said efficiently, pulling on his jacket and handing Natasha hers. " i'll drive you there, you can drive Clint home. pepper can get tony and bucky..." steve trailed off as he zipped his jacket.

Natasha slipped on three inch pumps and reapplied her lipstick before turning to the blond, who was fidgeting at the door, bracing himself for the question that was sure to come.

" will you drive Bucky home? "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WTAF i spent like one and a half hours on this and when i was proof reading it for the seventh time it suddenly dawned on me that this is 1. EXTREMELY SHORT 2. EXTREMELY BORING and 3. EXTREMELY UNEVENTFUL.  
> i'm the worst writer ever buuuuUUuuuuUT I'm 23.8% grateful for my 2.5 friends who did not promise to stick with me til the end of the line, but I'm pretty sure will do so anyway.  
> @ rell : i'm doing this for you. it's the 1 reason why i'm still doing it lol.  
> @ steph : my bby wheRE IS THE LARRY YOU PROMISED  
> @ jun : COME OVER MY MUM WILL MAKE US SANDWICHES AND WE CAN PLAY THE PIANO TOGETHER.


	6. Chapter 6

Clint, Tony and Bucky were grouped on the sidewalk, Bucky was taking sips from a bottle, Clint's jacket was inside out, and Tony was busy upchucking over his shoes. Pepper was sporting rubber gloves, holding a bottle of water and wearing a horrified expression as Tony staggered drunkenly in Bucky's direction and tripped over his feet.

poor pepper.

She tied her hair with resolute determination ( as though she had done this a thousand times before ) before walking forward and grabbing tony's elbow with surprising force. he laughed drunkenly and staggered away like the half coherent drunkard that fit every condition of a stereotype - slurring and tripping.

natasha grabbed her husband firmly on the shoulder as he made to grab the bottle from Bucky and passed Steve a hair tie from the many she always had on her wrist. " bucky's hair. when he pukes. " she grunted with effort when clint slumped his weight on her shoulder and his head lolled, eyelids fluttering.

bucky was the most sober, or least intoxicated, he stood alone on the sidewalk holding the bottle of clear orange liquid that he kept tipping into his mouth in three second intervals.

his gaze was unfocused and he lurched forward.

steve took a deep breath, swallowed the dinner that threatened to make a reappearance, and grasped bucky's arms and attempted to steer bucky away after throwing the bottle in the nearest trash can. bucky's unfocused gaze landed on steve, and the blond winced internally as he mumbled inaudibly, something that sounded like he was cursing steve to hell. steve opened the passenger side door of his car, watched with amusement as Bucky banged his shin on the door, hit his head on the roof and took a solid thirty seconds to locate the door handle so that he could slam the door shut. Steve passed the almost unconscious bucky an airsickness bag and the trademark flask, which he had filled with warm water.

bucky took the flask after six missed attempts and steve rolled down the windows.

" the fuck, " bucky mumbled after he'd gulped down half of the contents and steve asked him for directions.

" Your address, James. " Steve repeated, patience running low as Bucky slopped water all over himself.

" I live at - " Steve slammed on the brakes and lunged for the airsickness bag as Bucky vomited.

  _I'd better get a direct express pass to heaven for this._

bucky made a vague ' turn left ' gesture before tossing the vomit filled bag out of the window ( if any vomit landed on the side of the car, Steve would _murder_ Bucky. ), the melodious baritone of his voice replaced by the alcohol influenced slur. " this isn't vodka. " steve turned left and stopped the car at the red light. " where next? "

bucky mumbled something about making a u turn and turning right before he refocused his slipping attention on the contents of the flask, which he had totally forgot was not alcoholic, and downed everything in one go before attempting to throw the flask out of the window. ( Steve snatched it away in the nick of time. )

steve pulled out another bottle of water, and passed it to bucky, who spent a solid two minutes trying to unscrew it before spilling half of it on his face and then, chugging it like it was a lifeline and saying something in Russian that Steve was pretty sure was a curse on him and his future generations.

steve turned right after the u turn and asked bucky for directions again.

there was no response. total silence. no noise. Bucky was sound asleep, his head leaning on the seat belt and he was cradling the flask and bottle in his hands, his head lolling to the side, snoring intermittently, completely knocked out.

Steve had spent time considering what one on one time with Bucky would feel like, but this was definitely  _not_ one of the scenarios he thought he would find himself in.

-

 

After spending a grand total of fifteen minutes trying to wake Bucky up with every method he could think of ( from screaming his name at the top of his lungs to slapping him across his face) and get the same reaction from Bucky as he would from a brick wall, steve drove back to his own apartment, clenching his jaw and rubbing his face in exasperation, all the while bucky snored quietly, muttered intelligibly and clutched the thermos to his chest like he would a pillow.

when Steve reached the lobby of his apartment, bucky still hadn't woken up.

_Fuck._

bucky was unexpectedly heavy in his arms when Steve picked him up as gently as he could and kicked the car door shut, but he was all warmth and below the stinging stench of alcohol, vomit and cigarette smoke, he detected a whiff of cinnamon, and something that was distinctly bucky. In all other circumstances, Steve would be trying to memorize every single detail of the person in his arms, but at the present moment, he was trying not to gag at the stench that was assaulting him, as well as the fact that when he enlisted his doorman to help him open the door of his house, he had to endure a lot of suggestive humming as well as a lot of Natasha-like smirking.

he dropped bucky as ungracefully as he could onto the sofa before turning on the lights and cranking them up to full brightness. and this was finally enough to rouse him from his drunken stupor.

bucky groaned as he pushed himself to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, and steve pushed the half filled bottle of water at him before kneeling on the floor to help bucky unlace his converse, which was splattered with someone's vomit. ( Definitely Tony's. ) The brunet sat there, drinking water and watching Steve undo his laces and gently remove his shoes before a hand flew to his mouth and Steve's head whipped upwards.

steve grasped bucky's forearm and half dragged him into the toilet in his bedroom, as the alcohol threatened to make an appearance.

_shit._

bucky upchucked two steps before the toilet, and steve hurled abuse at the brunet internally as he took in the mess on the floor while gathering bucky's long hair back and tying it up as gently as he could. the normally silky hair was matted with sweat and slimy with some other substance that steve did _not_ want to think about. Natasha was going to pay for this.

bucky straightened up a while later and steve flushed the toilet before reaching over him to access the cabinet over the sink and pulling out a disposable toothbrush.

he passed the orange toothbrush to a much more coherent bucky. " brush your teeth, and stay here. "

and then he hastened to retrieve a mop from the kitchen, tried not to scream, picked up his bottle of detergent, tried not to scream again, walked back to the toilet, screamed internally and cleaned up the mess, all the while keeping a close eye on bucky who seemed to be brushing his teeth with such force a though the piece of plastic had done him a great personal wrong. bucky spat the last of his toothpaste into the sink and watched, eyes guarded yet glassy, as steve tried to mask his gagging with some very fake sneezing. the stench almost unbearable until steve used half of his citrus air freshener to prevent himself from being gassed to death.

_He was going to fucking die. Of stink fumes. Thanks, Natasha._

_-_

steve sidestepped bucky and reached into his closet, searching for clothes that would be comfortable enough to sleep in, yet fit the significantly taller and more muscly man.

he ruled out his favorite orange pajama pants with the neon blue cats.

the shirt that said _breathe if you want me_ was immediately out of the equation.

as was the rainbow coloured cotton pants with the lime green dinosaurs.

bucky poked his head out. " 'ud like a long sleeved shirt, "

Steve nodded without glancing back and pulled out some overlarge sweatpants and an old navy sweater. bucky reached out to take the clothes but ended up missing, grabbing the air instead. if the situation wasn't so tiring and it wasn't one in the morning, steve would have laughed, or made a few horrible jokes at bucky's clumsiness. instead he admired bucky's coherence in his state, silently applauding his ability to stand upright after the amount of alcohol he had probably consumed. truth be told, he preferred drunk bucky to sober bucky. at least drunk bucky didn't glare at him.

_that's a shitty way to think, steve._

bucky fumbled aimlessly with the buttons on his body hugging button down until steve reached over and gave him a hand.

_good lord._

_GOOD LORD._

steve almost had an orgasm. scratch that, he definitely did.

the lines on his chest sprinkled with dark brown hair, and the clearly defined six pack.

steve tried not to gape, but failed spectacularly, as bucky fumbled with his belt and then bolted out of the bathroom.

_calm down, Steve._

_Steve, you need to chill._

he heard the sound of running water and the scent of his peach body soap came wafting out of the toilet. steve shook his head, took three deep breaths and padded to the kitchen to make bucky honey with warm water, trying to block his thoughts regarding a certain brunet who was currently standing in his shower. when he walked back into his room with the flask, there was silence. "james?" he called tentatively. no response. swallowing the dread that bucky might have actually passed out for real, he opened the door.

he saw the lines of bucky's muscular back, and bucky's look of shocked horror before he realized bucky was naked.

Steve stood rooted to the spot, eyes raking up and down Bucky's body, admiring how well Bucky's wet hair framed his face until the latter crossed the bathroom in three angry strides and promptly slammed his fist onto steve's face and screamed something in Russian that sounded extremely _impolite. steve_ backed out, pressing his hand to his nose where bucky had punched him after swearing loudly. his vision blurred, then came into focus as he tried to process the red on his hands.

even while drunk, bucky still could pack a great punch.

not that this was of any good to steve.

bucky opened the door, almost, almost sober.

steve tried not to salivate at the view of bucky wearing the sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips, or the fact that the sweater did nothing except define bucky's amazing body despite the fact that his nose was literally dripping blood, and he probably looked like a pedophile. steve swallowed as bucky stared blankly at him, swaying slightly as he guided the taller man into his bed and tried not to get hard when bucky collapsed in his sheets and mountain of pillows with a contented sound before yanking the covers right up to his chin, just like Steve always did.

steve pressed the flask to bucky's mouth with his non bloody hand and watched as bucky sipped like an obedient child, his eyelids fluttering as he started to succumb to sleep.

" thanks, steve. " bucky mumbled groggily when he had finished and buried his face into steve's pillow, forehead creases relaxing.

he smiled, and debated quickly if he was allowed to call bucky bucky, instead of james.

most likely.

bucky wouldn't even remember what happened.

before steve could reply, bucky sat up again slowly and with startling clarity, asked steve, " ginger tea? "

steve smiled again as bucky's nose scrunched up.

he nodded. " ginger tea. "

and then after wiping the blood above his lip with the back of his palm, he carefully tucked bucky in his comforter and said, " anytime, james. "

bucky opened his mouth, but as steve lifted his feet and tucked the comforter under them, he chose to keep silent.  


the kitchen was cool and steve dialled natasha's number as he pressed a cloth to his nose to staunch the bleeding.

she finally picked up after four rings. " are you okay? did bucky get home safe? i'm so _fucking_ _pissed_ at clint. that bastard vomited in the living room and some of his shit hit the dog and it went ballistic and now i have vertical scratches the length of his dick on my calf. " steve snorted, but his tone turned serious as he explained that yes, he tried to ask for directions and yes, bucky honestly fell asleep and no, he didn't rape bucky how could he and yes, bucky did vomit and yes, steve lent him some clothes and no, steve wasnt sleeping in the bed tonight.

natasha snickered loudly and steve found his lips twitching, then winced when the movement hurt his face. " oh, and bucky also punched me. "

Steve could hear her smirking when she asked, " on your mouth with his mouth like you dreamed he would? "

steve rolled his eyes. " i walked in when he was changing. and to answer the question you haven't asked, no i didn't see his junk. i just saw some flawless back muscles enough to fulfill my dirty fantasies. "

Natasha groaned.

and for the first time that night, he allowed himself to laugh out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i spent two hours editing this and i'm dead LOL.  
> no updates for a week so i've tried to make this extra long even though everything here was really boring I AM SORRY I'M ALWAYS BORING  
> s/n : I'M ALMOST AT 200 HITS LOL YEAH BOY * inserts clip of me screaming at the top of my lungs *


	7. Chapter 7

immediately after Steve hung up, Natasha called him again.

her voice sounded tender and slightly worried. " also, bucky has cold feet at night, so let him wear some fuzzy socks. i know you have some. He's also on medication for anxiety and panic attack both are in his pockets but i generally suggest you don't talk about it unless he does. and uh, " she paused.

Steve made a hmm sound to show that he was still listening and she continued hesitantly, " he also suffers from really bad nightmares. they don't normally happen when he's drunk but uh, heads up? they're very nasty but he doesn't wake up so please don't wake him up. he mostly screams and cries and thrashes around and starts pleading. so that's normal stuff that happens, don't freak out."

steve mumbled in assent, his head still unable to fully process all the information natasha had shared.

_panic attacks?_

_nightmares?_

_anxiety?_

something stirred deep in his heart, and Steve found himself wanting to be able to hold Bucky in his arms and whisper sweet nothings to him if he woke up crying, as well as to find out what had traumatized the brunet so deeply so that he could permanently destroy it and keep the brunet safe and hapy and warm and -

if Natasha knew what he was thinking ( she probably did ) she didn't say it, and only finished off with a " jog over to my place at seven tomorrow. I've got some spare clothes for Bucky. he might want a change. "

Steve said he would, and after he hung up, quietly wondered bucky was actually as hostile and unpleasant as he appeared to Steve.

_maaaaybe not._

steve couldn't sleep on the couch because it was freezing ( ugh, leather. ), and he didn't dare to go and steal a pillow from his room for fear of waking Bucky up, so he brought his shoes to the bathroom and set about scrubbing the vomit from the scuffed converse. he knew he was trying too hard to get on Bucky's amicable side. he knew. 

he knew.

however, it did not deter him from picking up bucky's clothes which were left discarded in a pile and tossing them into the washing machine, not before carefully removing the small white bottle of pills from bucky's pocket and keeping it securely in the pocket of his own sweatpants. the tan leather belt was picked up, carefully dried up with a paper towel and left on the nightstand beside the sleeping brunet. steve grinned to himself, his thoughts turning slightly sexual as he coiled the belt neatly and relished the feel of the material between his -

STOP, STEVE.

now was _not_ a good time to get hard, especially when he had bigger crises on his hands, like finding fuzzy socks. in his massive wardrobe. in the dark.

there were a lot of other things he wanted to do in the dark.

like make out with bucky until they were both-

_steven grant rogers. you need to shut up._

despite living in his apartment every single day and organizing it himself, Steve seemed to bump into every single table leg and drawer and trip over every discarded article of clothing on the floor as he groped around aimlessly for fuzzy socks. it took him a solid ten minutes to achieve this feat, and he emerged panting slightly and extremely disheveled only to realize that bucky had tucked his feet into the blankets even more securely. Steve grit his teeth as he fumbled in the dark, dropping both the socks in the process.

then he stubbed his toe when bucky's feet twitched.

he didn't know whether bucky would be grateful to wake up with socks that were a hideous neon orange colour with bright purple and yellow polka dotted flamingos ( shut up, Natasha, it was dark. ) but honestly, he reasoned uselessly with himself, beggars can't be choosers.

as he stood up, he realized that the moonlight slipping between his curtains fell across bucky's cheek bones, and in the darkness, bucky's face was illuminated gently. he wasn't the intimidating russian literature professor that steve knew, neither was he the same cold person who hated steve, nor was he anything steve thought he would be. his face was young and boyish, eyelashes uncannily long, and steve realized with a pang, that his cheekbones were beautifully sharp, and his jawline was incredibly angular and -

_steve, you need to stop gaping._

_steve, you are literally getting hard._

refusing to give in to his own dirty fantasies which involved a certain brunet with said brunet stark naked and on his knees, steve bolted out of his room, pissed with himself.

-

 

Steve was rudely awakened by a feral cry and for a moment, he blinked at his surroundings before shoving his glasses on his face, utterly disoriented. then it came again, the positively sorrowful cry punctuated by desperate gasps and another piercing scream that left Steve's hair standing on end. the blond threw off the blanket he was using and skidded to his bedroom, only to see Bucky lying spread eagle on his bed, struggling futilely against a force that seemed to be binding him in his nightmare. the peaceful face was a mask of unspoken terror, and Steve's heart heaved when he saw Bucky resist whatever was causing him pain in his nightmare and gazed sadly at the tear tracks that glittered on his face as Bucky continued to thrash and struggle. And then Bucky screamed. Steve clapped his hands over his mouth in horror as he watched as giant sobs rose out of Bucky, his chest heaving and his arms still in the same position above his head. Bucky was begging now, and if possible, Steve's heart broke once more at the sight of Bucky's torment, unable to do anything to help.

but what steve did next was both very kind and very stupid.

he lifted Bucky onto his lap without realizing exactly what he was doing and wrapped his arms around Bucky, murmuring random sentences the way his mother used to do when he was young and woke up crying. Bucky whimpered, hands fisting the fabric of Steve's pajama shirt as Steve pressed his shoulders to his chest and rubbed Bucky's back, relieved that at least he'd had stopped screaming.

" i don't... make... please..." Bucky begged intelligibly, his eyes still closed as tears slid down his cheeks and Steve rocked him back and forth, back and forth.

and so it continued for the next twenty minutes, until Bucky had finally calmed down and Steve gently laid hm back in his cocoon of pillows, tucking his bolster behind Bucky's back for good measure. he brushed a lock of bucky's sweat dampened hair from his forehead and sighed wearily.

this was going to be a long night.

bucky's arm moved slightly, and the sleeve slid upwards, momentarily exposing a flash of red that steve, despite his tired state, caught sight of. after checking that bucky was still sound asleep, he knelt down beside the bed, switched on the torch light on his phone and _carefully_ pushed the sleeve up, bracing himself for what he thought he would see.

he was right. lines of red and pink crisscrossed over Bucky's wrist in a hideous, unrecognizable pattern, some new, some old, some already scars, some just healed. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he started counting, but was too afraid to continue once the numbers hit forty. swallowing his dread, Steve leaned closer to properly examine the cuts. the lines were an inch long, extending from the wrist to half the length of Bucky's muscular forearm. some Steve probably pass off a paper cuts, but some looked like they'd been caused by a knife.

with some trepidation, Steve reached for the other sleeve and carefully checked bucky's other arm. bucky was obviously right handed, because the scars on his right hand were a lot more jagged and the wounds had not been cleaned as thoroughly as his left hand, though the numbers were equal on both sides.

_ouch._

steve sucked in a breath and blew hair off his forehead before removing the first aid kit from his bathroom cupboard and carrying a stool over to where bucky lay asleep, secure in unconsciousness and blissfully ignorant.

and with a gentleness he did not know existed, Steve rested Bucky's hand on his lap and rooted around in the semi darkness for supplies.

_gauze._

he cleaned off the dried blood caking at the sides of the harsh red lines, but wasn't prepared to see layers and layers of scars below the fresh wounds. whatever had happened to bucky that made him self harm appeared to have done a serious lot of damage to Bucky's emotional state. he pulled out a roll of bandages and wrapped bucky's arm tenderly, pressing his lips gently to the crisp white bandages on Bucky's wrist, before doing the same with the other one, spending more time cleaning Bucky's sloppy work. " Why, bucky? " Steve murmured quietly as he put bucky's arm back at his side and standing up, his ready sympathy stirred as he resisted brushing his fingers through Bucky's hair.

" What happened to you that you must hurt yourself like this? "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI FRIENDS :-)  
> i'm sorry for the lack of updates this week ( and probably for the rest of the year ), but i tried to make up for it with this semi interesting chapter (??) haha. i know the plot is moving kinda slowly at the moment, but it's worth it i think.
> 
> side note: the capitalization of Steve and Bucky's names will be a lot more consistent after this chapter because i have enlisted my friend to help me with the editing process, as well as correct my grammar mistakes, which i hope are few and far between.
> 
> see you all soon!


	8. Chapter 8

 Steve bolted upright when his alarm rang, never one who would give himself the luxury of staying asleep for just five more minutes. He tiptoed cautiously to the room where Bucky was snoring quietly, lying flat on his back with one arm pillowed behind his head (bless him, that Adonis.), still comatose, and changed into a pair of shorts and a plain white shirt. The sun had just risen, bathing the sky in a clear blend of cheerful lilac and fiery crimsons, which Steve admired when he half sprinted - half jogged to Natasha's place.

“Good morning, Steeby," Natasha smiled serenely at him, vivid hair in a ponytail and sporting a horribly blinding yellow shirt and neon purple shorts.

Steve rolled his eyes and yawned pointedly before the duo set off in the general direction of Bucky's apartment to get him a set of clean clothes. “Clint?” Steve prompted, panting slightly as they crossed yet another junction. The ten kilometre run to Natasha's house wasn't particularly strenuous, but the additional five to Bucky’s apartment sure was.

Natasha shook her head. “I told you, he puked. Then he fell asleep in the middle of the bed. And I barely survived the night on one quarter of the goddamn bed. I hate him. "

Steve laughed and swatted playfully at her shoulder. “Well, Bucky, he had a n-" Steve broke off, suddenly reluctant to tell Natasha everything.

The redhead stopped at the pedestrian crossing and glared at Steve. "Steeby. Details. Now."

Steve relented.

The scowl melted into a look of genuine concern as Natasha listened to everything Steve had told her in measured, factual detail.

“Is that why you have a bruise the colour of a ripe plum on your cheekbone? "

Steve elbowed her in the ribs with as much strength as he could before speaking.

"I don’t know, Natty. Have you even seen his forearms? The cuts?" Steve asked, troubled as they crossed the road while Natasha paused to wipe a bead of sweat off her forehead. The redhead hesitated for a fraction of a second before she spoke, uncharacteristically serious. “I know more about them than I will ever share with anyone, Steve,” she began, gravely. She hardly ever said his name properly, and Steve knew when to take her seriously whenever she chose to do so. “Bucky has a lot of past history that he doesn't really enjoy telling anyone about, and he trusted me enough to spill it. But that doesn't mean that I can disrespect his privacy and spill them with you. "

_Wow._

Steve pondered on this for a few minutes and nodded. They ran the rest of the distance in near silence and he waited downstairs in the lobby while Natasha took the lift up to Bucky’s apartment to get him some clean clothes. (And no, he  _did not_  imagine Bucky changing into fresh clothes or anything.)

“Do you know how to get back to my place from here?” Natasha asked, smirking as she thrust a plastic bag with some clothes into Steve’s hands.

Steve gulped at the sight of her cheshire cat smile. “I think...?” He said, squinting suspiciously at Natasha, who was tying her hair with fierce determination. “I’m racing you back to my place. If I win, you go home shirtless. If you win, I'll give you twenty dollars."

Steve stuck out his tongue at her, refusing to shake her hand.

“Wimp."

“Fifty dollars,  Natty."

She shook.

“Make that one hundred. On three. One, two..."

And she sprinted away, cackling like a madman.

-

Steve sped across a small park and across a deserted public car park, his breathing labored and his heart beating wildly, determined to beat Natasha at her sick game because  _of course he damn well wasn't going home shirtless! Bucky was literally in his house!_

He raced past a flower shop along the sidewalk; Natasha nowhere to be seen.

And then finally, finally, finally, he glimpsed the familiar cul-de-sac of Natasha’s house and with a final burst of energy, raced towards it as quickly as he could just as Natasha came sprinting out of nowhere from the opposite direction, her face as red as her hair and her eyes narrowed.

Steve crossed the first four houses.

Natasha sped up.

Steve was almost winning.

Natasha made a sharp right turn.

Steve willed his exhausted legs to go faster.

Natasha was speeding up again.

And Steve -

“Ha! " Natasha crowed proudly, her breathing uneven, her chest heaving as she lay on the front lawn, gasping for air. “I fin...ally... out...ran... you, Steeby..." Steve doubled over, clutching his stomach and trying to refocus on the grass below his feet without throwing up or fainting. “Screw... you... Natty. I hate... you." He heaved back, too spent to raise his middle finger, collapsing onto the grass beside Natasha as he tried to calm the irregular thumping of his heartbeat. 

Natasha sat up and smiled wickedly.

“Give me your shirt, Rogers. "

-

The apartment was awfully quiet when Steve unlocked the door and stepped into the air conditioned living room. A quick check ensured that Bucky was still sound asleep as Steve carefully set two painkillers and a cup of water by the bedside, then carefully left the packet of medication for Bucky’s panic attacks beside his wallet and mobile phone. He slumped into the kitchen for a glass of water as his heartbeat slowed and his perspiration dried, then walked into his bedroom to get some clothes for his shower as quickly and quietly as humanly possible.

He had just slid the door of his closet shut and was about to enter the toilet when he felt Bucky stir. "'Am I?”

Steve cleared his throat, painfully aware that he was half naked and that Bucky’s husky and low morning voice did nothing, absolutely nothing to help and improve the situation.

“Uh, you're at my house. You passed out last night when giving me directions to your place. So I brought you here." Steve said as he passed Bucky the cup of water and two painkillers. Bucky accepted both blearily, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles as he forced himself into a sitting position, working out the kinks in his neck. "M'kay." he mumbled, and thank goodness Bucky had averted his gaze, because Steve checking him out subtly would surely mean that Bucky would pick up on Steve’s feelings in about six seconds flat. "You can shower first, Natasha brought you some clothes." Steve offered, hesitantly, passing Bucky the plastic bag as he sat up and yawned again.

Bucky's eyes raked over Steve’s body, and you'd think someone who had an amazing shoulder to waist ratio, paired with a solid six pack and drool worthy biceps would feel less insecure than Steve did. He flushed scarlet and pushed the packet of clothes into Bucky’s hands before stumbling into the toilet in his guest room and taking a shower in record time.

 _Calm your shit, Steve_.

-

Steve cracked two eggs in the frying pan and whisked them with chopped mushrooms, hoping that Bucky liked omelettes. Liked them enough that he would be willing to stay and have breakfast with Steve. And not glare at him. And maybe apologize for punching him.

Not that it was important if he didn't.

Of course.

Really.

He had just finished slicing a mango and some strawberries when Bucky appeared at the doorway, looking apprehensive and (was it his imagination?) positively livid.

“Did you do this?" Bucky asked in a quiet, deadly voice that made Steve swallow nervously. He knew this was about how he had bandaged Bucky’s arms.

Steve turned off the gas and feigned nonchalance.

"Do what?" He tried, ignoring Bucky’s pointed glace at his bandaged forearms and attempting to play it casual as he continued to speak.

"I made some omelettes for - "

"Did you bandage my arms? " Bucky whispered, taking a step forward and looking thoroughly menacing, his eyes burning with fire.

Steve gulped. Then he nodded.

As he turned around to face Bucky he knew that he wouldn't fight him, not after all the scarring he saw and the screaming he heard.

Natasha once chided Steve for being too kind.

"And why in the bloody  _world_  would you do such a thing?"

Bucky's pupils were slits and he took the smallest of steps forward. Steve swallowed again as he backed away, suppressing the spark of indignation that bloomed in his chest. Bucky took a deep breath, and his eyes closed briefly as though he was in pain before he spoke again, his voice had transformed from a melodious baritone to a predatory growl that left Steve a bit too afraid for his own good.

"I'm asking you, Steven Rogers, why would you breach my privacy and meddle with my problems which are of absolutely no concern to you?"

Steve stared at his toes, refusing to give in to the indignation in his chest. The once aromatic smell of fresh fruit and eggs now smelled pungent and disgusting. "I didn't know you'd...you'd get so u-upset." Steve said, his fists coiling at his sides, a massive contrast to his posture and stance. Bucky shouted something, but Steve was past caring. With a nonchalance he didn't feel, he replied, "Well if you were so insecure about your deformities, please don't pass out drunk unless you like waking up on the roadside." It was a low blow, even Natasha would have gotten pissed if she knew Steve had described self harm as a deformity, but Steve could not take it back. He had stayed up half the night clearing up vomit and washing clothes stained with said vomit, slept for a grand total of three hours, got punched in the nose (it was feeling better thank you very much) and now, Bucky’s ingratitude was simply  _unacceptable_.

Bucky’s fist collided with Steve’s cheekbone for the second time in less than ten hours and Steve, from years of karate lessons, immediately got into fighting stance, his fists ready at his sides. His jaw throbbed painfully, but Steve was sure it wasn't broken.  Or at least he hoped he was sure it wasn't broken.

And Steve raised his fist, ready to fight back and start one hell of a fistfight, but a sudden image flashed across his vision. Bucky was in his bed, crying out as though in pain, and Steve remembered how his whimpers had made his heart ache, and he saw how scared Bucky was, and Steve knew that he could not, not now or ever, hurt Bucky in any way. 

"You're right," Steve mumbled. He wiped the blood from his nose and passed the plate of food to Bucky, who was scrutinizing him with an unrecognizable expression. "I'm sorry, Buc- James."

And before he could do something dumb like cry, he bolted to the bedroom to wash off the blood.

Steve crept to the kitchen ten minutes later, his palm clenched around Bucky’s medication, when he heard gasping. Bucky was seated on the floor, the plate of food beside him, his knees drawn up to his chest and his palms bleeding where his nails dug into his skin. His face was ashen and pale, and his body was shaking with such intensity that left Steve slightly shaken.

Did one need water to go with medication?

Steve dropped to his knees, and ripped open the packet of tablets, poured out a few onto his palm and carefully pushed one into Bucky’s mouth. The effect was almost instantaneous, and Steve took this opportunity to pour Bucky a mug of warm water and he watched as Bucky accepted the mug and drank deeply without looking at him. "Buc- James, I’m really sorry uh about saying-" Steve began timidly, as he poured the remaining tablets back into the Ziploc bag and passing it to Bucky, who was taking deep, measured breaths.

No response. 

"I'm sorry, James."

Bucky exhaled in one long breath.

"If you tell anyone about this I'll make sure you end up in a body bag."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * harley quinn voice * HEY GUYS
> 
> a massive thank you to all 12 people who left kudos on my work and for all those who took time to make me a lil happier by commenting, i appreciate y'all vvv much xo
> 
> a bigger thank you to my friend ( she's the 0.5 out of my 2.5 friends who know i write gay fanfiction ) Jun, whO HELPED ME TO EDIT THIS CHAPTER that's why all the sentences and names are capitalized :-)


	9. Chapter 9

"Jesus, Steve, what the heck happened to your face?"

Steve grimaced as he held the door open for Natasha and accepted his sweaty shirt. The redhead smiled brightly at Bucky, who was standing stiffly at a corner of Steve’s living room, posture stiff and hands clasped neatly in front of him. He had been staring beadily at the clock on Steve's wall without so much as even moving or making a single sound. There had been a terse silence between the two after Bucky had rung Natasha to pick him up, and had finished the omelette Steve had made for him with well concealed enthusiasm. (Steve knew his omelettes were amazing.)

"I fell."

Natasha snorted derisively. "On your face?"

Steve nodded without making eye contact with both Bucky and her, shifting the ice pack so that the condensation didn't drip down his neck. Natasha's half glance in Bucky’s direction asked the question that she didn't say out loud, and Steve’s refusal to meet her gaze confirmed her suspicions.

"We should go," Bucky said quietly, as Natasha gave every sign of wanting to stay longer.

She nodded and waved at Steve, who was sitting glumly on the sofa, brushing away yet another drop of water rolling down his chin. And before Steve could say anything, Bucky stalked past and muttered a quick thanks before bolting out of the door like a bat out of hell, shoes squeaking noisily on the corridor.

Natasha texted him.

_Panic attack?_

Steve licked his lips, knowing Bucky was in the car and the odds that he wouldn't see the message were not exactly in Steve’s favor.

Steve risked it.

_Panic attack._

_-_

The rest of the weekend was spent doing every single boring thing that came with the price of being an adult. Natasha called him, and he spent half an hour telling her everything, until she showed up with Clint at his apartment carrying a bag of fried chicken, ointment to soothe his bruise and their dog to cheer him up.

Steve tried not to think obsessively about Bucky.

It did not work.

-

 When Steve met Sam for their exercise sessionon Monday, the bruise on his cheek had subsided enough for Sam to accept the ‘I slipped and fell’ excuse. "You seem worried." Sam remarked as Steve grunted through his sixty eighth push up.

Steve made a noncommittal noise. "Work," he mumbled vaguely, starting his set of Russian lifts. 

Sam rolled his eyes. "You're being a dick."

Steve flipped him off. "At least mine's longer."

Sam fell off the stationary bike in his effort to contain his laughter.

-

When Steve and Sam entered the staff room, they were faced with a massive shouting match which consisted of Tony, who was wearing a flowery bathrobe, Thor, who was radiating exasperation, and Clint, who was recording every single detail on his phone (that lucky bastard had removed his hearing aids and they were lying discarded on the sofa). Pepper was red faced from screaming at Tony, and Tony was too busy yelling at Thor to pay her much attention, but judging from Natasha’s grin, the fight wasn't anything serious.

"Oh my god, Tony, you can't walk into your lectures wearing a bathrobe." Thor groaned, slapping his forehead, completely amused.

Tony folded his arms. "You shouldn't have asked me to baby sit your demon spawn."

Steve turned to Clint in question and eyebrow raised.

"Thor left his cat at Tony's for one afternoon and Tony apparently got scratched so bad he can't wear his ridiculously tapered pants."

"Exactly!" Tony bellowed, pointing at Clint.

Thor looked offended. "It was a two inch scratch, Tony. And you can wear non tapered pants." He reasoned, somehow Steve recognized the pride in his eyes. Thor's cat was likely to get a medal later on. If it did not, he would buy it for Thor himself.

"NO IT ISN'T, THOR, IT'S THE LENGTH OF MY DICK."

Steve managed to clap his palms over his eyes just in time as Tony whipped open the bathrobe, causing Wanda to screech like a banshee. Natasha's voice cut through Clint’s completely non masculine shriek and Thor's exclamation of surprise.

"Keep it closed, Stark. Your dick is tiny. Can't you wear boxers with that robe at least?"

Tony flipped her off, scowling, just as Bucky came over, smirking and slung an arm over Tony's shoulders, grinning widely.

"That's because all of it is in his personality."

Thor and Bucky fist bumped just as Clint fell on the floor beside Sam, the two of them howling with laughter.

And somehow, in spite of everything that happened in the weekend, Steve found himself chuckling.

-

Steve had been hankering after an opportunity to speak to Bucky, and apologize again, and after three weeks of nothing major happening after The Fiasco in which the headmaster Nicholas Fury had to come in with a set of non tapered dress pants for Tony, a golden opportunity presented itself. Nick had asked both Steve and Bucky to speak to him about administration matters after everyone else had left, and while Steve waited for Bucky to finish up, he sat by the bay window, calmly gazing at the rivulets of rain sliding down the glass, the whole effect strangely therapeutic.

"Steve," Nick called as Bucky exited and pulled on his jacket before exiting the office.

He stood up and waved to Bucky, who returned the gesture after a moment's hesitation and after he checked behind him.

_Not much, but an improvement._

-

Steve squinted through the massive downpour at the figure clothed in black staggering in the sidewalk, clothes drenched from the rain, before realizing it was Bucky. He stopped the car beside the bedraggled man and rolled down the window. "I'll give you a lift, James. Get in," He offered, smiling nervously as Bucky pushed his soaking hair out of his eyes and peered through the merciless rain. And yes, Steve had to admit that Bucky looked very good soaking wet, and would probably look better if he was naked in Steve's - 

"Thanks, but no thanks." came the curt reply before Bucky set off again, teeth chattering audibly.

Steve stopped the car, reached into the backseat and pulled out an umbrella before getting out (his socks got wet immediately) and standing in front of Bucky with the umbrella over them. "Take this, at least." Steve coaxed, even though his heart was racing, slightly afraid at being on the receiving end of another outburst. Bucky shook his head stubbornly and continued walking, but Steve wouldn't back down. He followed Bucky for another 20 paces until Bucky whipped around, spraying water everywhere.

"Please leave me be."

Steve hesitated. He remembered Natasha and Bucky trying to work out how Bucky could call a driver over Natasha’s phone because Bucky’s car had been sent for servicing. And if he let Bucky walk in the rain, it would be on his conscience forever. Bucky was staring at him, his eyes wide and Steve couldn't help noticing that his eyes weren't just brown. They were a soft hazel, with caramel colored flecks in the pupils, warm and almost kind. "I just..." Steve stuttered, suddenly losing his train of thought as he tried desperately to erase any mental pictures he had conjured. "I just... hoped I could give you uh, a ride. I don't want you t-to get sick." He mumbled, his cheeks scarlet as he shifted his grip on the umbrella.

Bucky cocked his head to the side, studying Steve carefully and Steve smiled hopefully.

"Thank you, Steve."

Steve led Bucky back to where the car was parked and unlocked the doors.

"Anytime, James."

-

The ride was uncomfortably quiet, with Steve opting to turn off the music because he wasn't sure if Bucky enjoyed orchestral music. Bucky had removed his sodden jacket and Steve cranked up the heating, even though it became too warm, but Bucky was shivering. Steve stopped at the drop off point of Bucky's apartment but didn't unlock the doors.

"Can i ask you something?" he ventured tentatively, mentally applauding himself for not stuttering, even though his face was flushed and his palms were sweating.

Bucky nodded mutely, staring straight ahead. 

"You just did, however you may ask one more."

Steve couldn't miss the harry potter reference no matter how much he tried, and so without thinking, he blurted out, "For future reference, harry, my favourite jam flavour of jam is raspberry... although of course, if I were a death eater, I would have been sure to research my own jam preferences before impersonating myself."

And Bucky had smiled then, not a smirk, but a genuine one that tugged on the corners of his lips and made his eyes twinkle.

"Er... right."

_His imitation of harry potter's voice was spot on._

Steve laughed.

"Your question?" Bucky prompted again.

"I was w-wondering why you hate um, me."

There was a long pause, in which Bucky frowned and narrowed his eyes, eyebrows furrowed and hands twitching slightly.

"Because when i saw you, you were hugging Natasha. You said you were best friends." He hesitated. " But before you came, Natasha was  _my_  best friend. That woman has helped me in more ways that anyone could possibly imagine, and," He paused again. "I wouldn't be alive if i hadn't known Natasha."

There was another pause.

"And I got jealous, because Natasha always had time for me, I was her number one friend, and suddenly there was you, and whenever she came around, she'd always be talking about how great it was that you were back in her life after ten million years, and how you've changed, how different you used to be, how much you grew, how you seemed to cope so well and all of that."

Steve blushed.

“And I assumed you wanted to drive a wedge between my friendship with Natasha. You can call me insecure, but that genuinely kept me up for a few nights. I was the best man at her wedding you know? And I thought you knew everything that happened between Natasha and I, everything that she'd done for me, and every struggle I face and every problem I have, which made me hate you more because you could lord it over me anytime, and I was powerless. And Natasha talked to me about, said she'd never tell you unless I want her to, and you washed my clothes, cleaned my shoes, brought me ginger tea and even though I punched you twice and you treated me like you did with everyone else and I just realized that- "

A pause.

"I might have misjudged you, Steve."

Steve stared fixedly at steering wheel.

"I'm sorry aboutSaturday, Steve."

He turned to smile wanly at Bucky before unlocking the door.

“It’s alright, James. I'm glad you told me. Do you um, think that we could we start afresh, a-as friends maybe?"

_BAD IDEA BAD IDEA STEVE NO BAD IDEA NO NO NO NO NO NO BAD IDEA STEVE SHUT UP NOW SHUT UP STEVE_

"Sure."

Bucky opened the door and nodded in thanks before hesitating as though he wanted to say something.

Steve looked away awkwardly, then glanced up with his second hopeful smile of the day when Bucky heaved a melodramatic sigh.

"And I think you can call me Bucky."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REACHED 300 HITS TODAY!!
> 
> thank you to:
> 
> jun - who has been editing my chapters for me & providing me with cough useful cough productive cough feedback.  
> rell - for existing.  
> steph - idk 4 wat but idw u 2 feel unneccessaraccery when im thenking all ma frens so thenks 2 u.  
> & everyone who'd kudos-ed, commented on and read my story.
> 
> x


	10. Chapter 10

The sky was the most perfect shade of blue.  
  
The birds were chirping.  
  
The sun wasn't blinding.  
  
The breeze was refreshing.  
  
World poverty had ended.  
  
No more world hunger.  
  
No more chaos and violence.  
  
“Really, Steve. I swear on my fourth cup of coffee that if you don't stop your bright ass morning smile positive outlook on life bullshit rainbow sunshine flower shit I will step on your face.” Natasha snarled after Steve walked into the school building with her, humming and bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had been radiating positive energy since they met for breakfast, and to be honest, he was exaggerating it just to annoy her. He flashed her a megawatt smile and bounded up the staircase with her handbag swinging jauntily on his arm while she rubbed roughly at her eyes. (Steve would never understand how her eyeliner never smudged)  
  
“My goodness, Steeby. Can you just bloody chill for one frickin' second?”  
  
Steve laughed, and blew a raspberry for good measure.  
  
-  
  
"What's so funny?”  
  
Natasha finished the rest of the coffee as both Steve and her turned around to see Bucky looking his usual handsome self smiling bemusedly at them, holding a Starbucks in his hand, smelling like cinnamon and -  
  
Natasha jammed a navy manicured finger into Steve's chest.  
  
“This idiot has been singing joy to the world in the car, and he's smiling like he just got laid or some shit. I'm so damn tired and I hate him.”  
  
Bucky raised an eyebrow at Steve before smirking when Steve flushed and ducked his head. He opened his mouth to say something witty to save his own ass but was interrupted by Tony kicking open the door wearing Mickey Mouse pajama pants and a star wars shirt.  
  
“WHO GOT LAID?”  
  
Thor hurled his hole puncher across the room and the brunet caught it neatly before flinging it at Clint, who caught it just as neatly even though his back was turned while balancing a stack of files on his head. Steve shrugged with faux nonchalance, pretending to smooth his eyebrow with an extended middle finger just as Clint came over with a cup of coffee (which Natasha pounced on.)  
  
“Steve did.” Bucky interjected helpfully, a mischievous glint in his eyes, his trademark smirk plastered to his face like he had just won the lottery. Tony whipped out a condom (actually, four) from who knows where and pressed them into Steve's palm before saying confidentially,  
  
“You might want to buy some of these.”  
  
Sam walked out, shaking his head both middle fingers raised. There was a short lived silence as they all went to their respective desks until Tony, standing on the printer, shouted at the top of his lungs, “WHAT DO YOU CALL ME WHEN I'M NOT WEARING ANY CLOTHES?”  
  
Wanda shrieked and swore fluently and Thor, Clint and her quickly plugged their fingers in their ears. Steve quickly followed suit, squeezing his eyes closed for good measure just as Peggy walked in with a “please tony, not now”, apparently tired of Tony as well.  
  
“Stark naked.”  
  
Steve, Thor, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Wanda and Clint all removed their shoes and on Bucky's count of three, sent them flying in Tony's direction. (Clint's hit tony square on his chest, and a white stiletto collided with Tony's groin.)  
  
When Nick came in and Tony told him the same joke, he actually laughed. (Thor threatened to have him disowned).  
  
“Well,” Tony said, pleased, slapping on rose tinted sunglasses before leaping agilely and landing on top of Wanda’s table, scattering papers and pens. “That was a stark contrast as compared to how y'all reacted.”  
  
Nick unlaced his shoes and promptly hurled them at tony.  
  
-  
  
“Hey”  
  
Steve jumped and a piece of cucumber slipped out of his sandwich. Bucky stood opposite him, holding a tray of macaroni and cheese. “Uh, hello.” Steve tried. His voice came out sounding an octave higher than usual.  
  
This is your future husband Steve, BE SUAVE.  
  
“Can I sit with you?”  
  
Steve nodded, subtly trying to check if there was food on his chin, not trusting himself to speak, and quickly turned off his kindle and shoved it into his bag before Bucky could ask him what he was reading (Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire) and how many times he'd read it (more than eighty) and who is favorite character was (Professor Mcgonagall) and what his Hogwarts house was (Gryffindor).  
  
‘What were you reading?” Bucky began conversationally.  
  
Shit.  
  
Steve flushed an enviable shade of mauve. “Harry Potter.” He muttered, ready for the nerd comments which would make him grit his teeth in anger.   
  
“Which one?” Bucky probed, mouth full. Steve should not find that as endearing as he did. He should not. He. Should. Not.  
  
“Goblet of Fire.”  
  
Bucky smirked, “That's my third favorite one.”  
  
Steve perked up immediately, knowing that he was giving away too much of his inner nerd. Maybe Bucky too was a Harry Potter fan as well. That would be a first.  
  
“On a scale of one to ten how much do you love Harry Potter?” Steve asked, smiling in his head, desperately trying to maintain a cool and polite demeanor.  
  
“Nine and three quarters.”  
  
They slapped palms.  
  
“I’m a Slytherin.” Bucky mentioned, biting into his macaroni and peering up at Steve through his lashes, daring Steve to contradict him.  
  
“Really? No way. I definitely pegged you as someone who would be sorted straight into Azkaban.” Steve quipped, allowing himself to grin like the cheshire cat. Bucky pulled out the straw from his juice packet and raised it threateningly, “Sectumsempra.” and then he laughed, his stern facade dropping, and Steve thought it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.  
  
-  
  
“HELLO ROGERS.” Tony flung open the door with a flourish, wearing a straw hat and a lemon yellow coat, three seconds after Steve rang the doorbell. “COME IN,” he bellowed genially, taking the bottle of wine Steve had brought and steering him to the living room of his lavishly decorated penthouse. “MI CASA SU CASA, MAKE YOURSELF COMFORTABLE.”  
  
Steve pried himself out of Tony's grip with a polite nod and gritted teeth as Wanda emerged from the kitchen holding cocktails. “Tony, please don't shout. You've been shouting for the past fifteen minutes." She pleaded as Steve accepted one and took a sip, wincing at the massive amount of alcohol. (He suspected that in the end, he would be thanking Wanda because Tony got louder when he got drunker). Thor was lying across three seats on the sofa, face flushed. “Yeah, Tony, shut the hell up.”  
  
“Wow, is it bitch o'clock already?” Tony asked, rolling his eyes as he got up to let Clint and Natasha in.  
  
“HELLO BARTONS,” Tony shouted, slamming the door into the wall and Wanda, Thor and Steve rolled their eyes in perfect synchronization. “MI CASA –“  
  
“SHUT UP TONY, YOU SAY THAT EVERY BLOODY TIME WE COME OVER. ENOUGH, WE GET IT, MI CASA SU CASA. SHUT UP.”  
  
“-SU CASA!”  
  
“Pepper, can you kick him out?”  
  
-  
  
But Steve had to admit, the dinner was good enough that he endured two more sounds of Tony's horrifying welcomings (Sam, then Bucky) and felt that mild deafness was worth it. Pepper had gone the whole hog, warm bread rolls, fresh caesar salad, escargot baked under a layer of cheese, roast potatoes with heaps of butter, fragrant cabonara and some of Tony’s best wine.  
  
“Pass the pepper, please.”  
  
Tony put down his fork and knife before physically pulling out his wife's chair, lifting her bridal style, and depositing her onto Natasha’s lap with a flourish, much to pepper's exasperation. Clint flung a teaspoon at Tony with such devastating accuracy that it collided with his sunglasses and sent them flying. Natasha smiled at him before helping Pepper off her lap.  
  
“You are literally shitting me right now.” Sam sighed.  
  
“Hey guys, maybe I should change my name to Salt so that Pepper and I can be Salt n' Pepper.”  
  
“This would be hilarious if you hadn't said it eighty seven times.” Thor slapped his forehead.  
  
“Do you ever think that the couple name for Pepper and I could be Pepperoni?”  
  
“I swear, Tony, you say this every single damn day and we tell you every single damn day that no, it cannot.” Sam groaned.  
  
Bucky caught Steve’s eye over the table just as Thor flicked a piece of escargot across the table to shut Tony up. “Tony Stark for you.” He mouthed, a shit eating grin plastered on his face, taking the opportunity to steal some the last of the escargot from Tony's plate.  
  
Steve laughed, and so did Bucky, who seemed to claw his way even deeper into Steve's already enamored heart with his smirks and his breathy laughter.   
  
Steve was so screwed.  
  
-  
  
The bathroom door was left ajar, and Steve pushed it open hesitantly when Bucky did not respond to his knocking, remembering that ten minutes ago he had just gone to use the bathroom as well but didn't return. Bucky was seated on the floor, his back against the marble bathtub, his face contorted and his fingernails digging into his palms.   
  
Steve had spent some time reading up on panic and anxiety attacks, and long since remembered that this was one such occurrence. He grabbed the small glass cup that had two toothbrushes in it, filled it with lukewarm tap water, and quickly rooted in Bucky's pockets, scattering coins, an earpiece, some keys, ears trained for the tell tale rustle of a plastic packet. he found the pills, almost ripped it in half and carefully slid one into the brunet's mouth, then watched nervously as Bucky downed the glass of water, before pulling off a small chunk of toilet paper and dabbed carefully at Bucky's clammy forehead.  
  
There was a significant silence as Bucky’s shoulders loosened up and he glanced at Steve, who was hovering near him, nervously awaiting some sort of response. Bucky gathered his hair into a messy ponytail before standing up slowly, pocketing his things and taking deep breaths. Steve wanted to hug him.  
  
“You alright?”  
  
“Yeah. Wouldn’t have been but am now.”  
  
-  
  
“Hey,” Steve sidled up to Bucky as everyone was packing up and donning their jackets. “Do you want t-to come over to my place um, for a bit? We could uh...” He trailed off, unsure of himself despite practicing what he was going to say for the past half an hour straight. Bucky paused in the act of zipping up his sinful leather jacket and sonofabitchbucky licked his lips. He had been so excited to befriend Bucky, and even Natasha had suggested they (in light of their newfound friendship), spend some time together. "Come over to...?” Bucky prompted, eyebrow raised as he watched Steve blush and stutter.  
  
"I take back my offer.”  
  
Bucky laughed and punched Steve playfully on the arm before leaning down and with the most horrifying imitation of a British accent, asked a scarlet Steve, “you still got those condoms Tony gave you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY FAM!!!!!  
> this update was my most difficult one because i edited this chapter on my phone instead of my laptop and it was hORRIBLE OH MY GOD.
> 
> i also reached 650 hits!! thanks to everyone who kudosed & commented. please buy some pizza and pet some dogs.
> 
> xo


	11. Chapter 11

Steve unlocked the door of his apartment and pushed the door open, while Bucky pretended to be unimpressed. “What, no mi casa su casa?”

What Steve should have done would be to throw in a saucy wink, followed by a seductive  _ “Mi casa su casa _ ” but instead he stuck out his tongue like a five year old and switched on the lights, revealing his polished baby grand piano, its black polished wood gleaming (he even installed little spot lights for when he was feeling up to it), his Harry Potter bookshelf, which consisted of 6 differently covered editions of the same series, his framed autographed picture of JK Rowling, all his merchandise (the scarves and badges and wands) and pointed Bucky to the direction of his massive DVD and video game collection.

Steve had always been proud of his apartment, loving the sleek aesthetic of the black piano, with his dark parquet tiles, the pale cream walls, his black leather sofa, the marble coffee table, his matte white bookshelf, the stained white speakers and his brick fireplace (colored black ).

He disappeared into the kitchen to pour them both some chocolate milk (he had had enough of alcoholic drinks for tonight) and came out to find Bucky holding up Mario Kart and wearing a smug grin.

“Are you serious? You want to suffer a crushing defeat so early into our friendship?”

Bucky's smirk widened.

“Just you wait.”

-

Steve swore loudly as Bucky sent a blue shell that sent Mario careening into the lava. He watched sadly as the 1ST PLACE changed to LAST PLACE and scowled at Bucky's triumphant yell and energetic happy dance.

“Stop being a sore loser, punk.” Bucky smirked happily, choosing a new terrain for the next race. (Rainbow Road. Damn him.)

Steve flung a pillow at Bucky, who calmly tucked it behind an elbow before shifting into a more comfortable position and picking up his controller. “You ready to lose again?”

-

“WHAT THE HELL.”

Steve's controller was wrenched out of his hand just as he was about to complete his second lap in 1st place (Bucky had been swearing nonstop in Russian for the past five minutes.). Bucky screamed intelligibly again as he sandwiched the controller under his armpit, blocked Steve with his leg and willed Donkey Kong to go a bit faster, fingers mashing the buttons with a renewed ferocity.

“I'M WINNING!” Bucky shouted like an excited child as Steve pushed him off the sofa in an effort to get to his controller, slapping him on the arm as Bucky curled around his controller and laughed like an asthmatic whale.

DONKEY KONG - 1ST

MARIO - LAST

Steve kicked Bucky in the ribs, affronted as Bucky lay on the floor, still yelling triumphantly as though he had been crowned King Of Mario Kart.

“All's fair in love and war.” Bucky drawled, faking a British accent.

“You jerk. You literally had my controller up your armpit.”

And then suddenly, Steve was giggling, and Bucky snorted. Steve's giggles turned into a chuckle, which escalated into a full blown belly laugh which left tears streaming down his cheeks and his stomach aching so badly he couldn't sit upright. One glance at red-faced Bucky still sprawled on the floor with his fist in his mouth set Steve off again, and they laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed for fifteen minutes, as though everything was all right with the world.

Maybe it was.

-

“Why are the two of you glaring at each other?”

Steve had been scowling at Bucky all morning, still sore over his crushing defeat. (It was eighteen points to three in Bucky’s favour) Bucky had taken to scowling right back, even though his eyes were twinkling and his lips twitched nonstop. Natasha had picked up on the fake tension as Steve made himself a cup of coffee at the coffeemaker. Bucky spoke first, shooting Steve an evil smirk.

“He's just a sore loser.”

Steve sat down beside Natasha on the sofa in the staff room and flipped him off for the seven billionth time in 24 hours.

“He cheated at Mario Kart. Exactly like you used to, Natty.”

Natasha glanced up from the essay she was reading. “You mean he sat on your lap and basically blocked you from looking at the screen?”

Bucky looked highly affronted.

“He put my controller in his armpit, then when i was beating him flat in the sixth round, he put it inside his pants.”

Natasha cracked up, slapped palms with Bucky, then turned to Steve, her expression grave.

“All's fair in love and war.” She said, slapping Bucky's palm again before sashaying off.

-

And as the weeks passed, Steve began to develop a fondness for Bucky that he only shared with Natasha, secretly enjoying the nights which Bucky would come over and play endless rounds of Mario Kart, or critique Harry Potter films.

He enjoyed Bucky's company tremendously, and his likeness for the sarcastic, witty man grew into something that made him blush. Fighting a crush that was based on attractive looks was something Steve could do perfectly, but it didn't help him that Bucky was incredibly endearing on another level - he always smiled when Bucky screamed blue murder at Harry's antics, and he personally felt impressed when Bucky belted out the lyrics to Circle Of Life in perfect pitch when they watched Lion King, or how he could recite half the Harry Potter movie script in perfect fluent Russian. Nor did it in any way make his life easier when Bucky came over with garlic bread and French fries for them to share when he found out Steve had a secret likeness for them, but let Steve eat most of it himself.

Steve didn't feel like playing the piano for Bucky yet, choosing to keep it for a moment where he deemed was right, and Bucky never pushed him, but once or twice Steve caught Bucky staring wistfully at his stacks of sheet music, and stroking his metronome with a gentle finger. They had intense pillow fights (Steve had to replace 2 of them) and Bucky had come over once wielding 2 water pistols and they'd spent an hour in the car park shrieking like children and soaking each other until Steve’s door man had called the police after they'd soaked him when he told them to shut up.

And they had deep talks too, drinking hot chocolate in Steve’s kitchen and wrapped up in Steve’s quilts. Steve had learnt that Bucky too was looking for a committed relationship, and he'd told Steve about his only sibling, and in return, Steve had told Bucky about all five of his siblings in great detail, and they'd shared their childhood ambitions with one another, and talked about Natasha, laughed at Tony behind his back, and shared fan theories and introduced each other to music they liked, and Steve decided then that he really  _ liked liked liked liked liked liked liked liked  _ Bucky.

Natasha listened to Steve talk about Bucky for an hour nonstop, misty eyed and soft voice, before she broke in when he recounted one of their many childlike activities for the nine thousandth time with a stupid goofy grin on his face.

“You should ask him out.” She said, never one to beat around the bush.

“I don't want to ruin the friendship we have between us,” Steve said, his trademark excuse, but they both knew Steve wasn't ready to confess his sexuality. Bucky was openly bisexual, and nobody seemed to have much of a problem with it in the office. She sighed, petting her golden retriever absentmindedly and placing her on Steve’s lap so he could hug her.

“You should woman up. Don't be so spineless. Face your shit. Get your man.”

"Thanks for the words of encouragement.”

“Buy some condoms, then thank me later.”

“Fuck you, Natasha.”

“Fuck Bucky, not me.”

-

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“I can't meet you for our dinner routine on Sunday.”

Steve glanced up from the email he was reading to stare at Bucky, slightly upset. Bucky was standing near his desk, a folder of papers clamped between his legs and typing his hair with sheepish expression.

“Sure, why?”

A long pause. Steve counted fifteen seconds. 

“I um, I have a um, date.”

It took every single inch of Steve’s will power, self control and ten seconds of mental deep breathing for him to remain as neutrally expressionless as he could. “A what?” He gaped, staring at Bucky who was running a hand through his ponytail awkwardly, as though this conversation was paining him physically.

“A um, date? You know, where someone asks someone out for a nice meal or something then make out afterwards?” Bucky said in his most 'duh' voice, staring at Steve in concern. “What's wrong?”

The blond shook his head, forced a massive smile and leaned in conspirationally, as though his heart was not shattering into sixty billion pieces and he was ready to punch Bucky’s date, no matter how awesome or sexy or friendly or nice they were. He had fists and he had anger. And he was ready to punch Bucky’s new girl or boyfriend right up their face for stealing his not - boyfriend. No logic, but Steve could not care less.

“Who’s the lucky person?” he asked, feigning excitement and raising an eyebrow, determined to be nothing except supportive for his friend. He’d rant and plot a violent murder in front of Natasha later. But Bucky deserved his support, no matter what.

“Um, it's this girl, her name is Skye, and she's absolutely amazing, we've got a lot in common and...” steve immediately tuned out the sound of Bucky’s voice, high with excitement, thinking about the many times he'd sat in front of the piano and played Vivaldi's Spring over and over, his heart so full of joy, so pumped to play it for Bucky, only to hear that Bucky was dating someone that sounded lovely and amazing and it was like a discordant note in the sea of perfect melodies and captivating harmonies.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky's voice was gentle. “Are you alright? Hello? Are you listening?”

Steve jumped, and flushed scarlet. “Y-yeah I’m listening. Your girlfriend?”

Bucky gave him an odd look that made Steve feel like he was getting an x ray. “I asked you if we could go grab that butter beer drink from that new shop now, you know, the one with cake pops that look like snitches?”

Steve glanced at the email he didn't really have to reply and swallowed the bile rising in his throat before mumbling something about being busy, leaving Bucky standing awkwardly in a corner, confused and slightly upset.

Good that he wasn't going. The butter beer would've tasted sour anyway.

-

“ —  burgers on Sunday, I heard they do really good cocktails too, Thor's wife, her name is Jane, was telling us about it last month. Steve? Hello? Steve? "

Peggy waved a hand in front of Steve and he jerked back into reality, flushing scarlet. Natasha, Sam, Thor, Clint and Wanda were peering at him as though he had suddenly grown an extra eye. “Yeah,” Steve said, nodding with faux enthusiasm. “Yeah, I agree with Sam. He's right.”

“What?”

_ Shit. _

Natasha narrowed her eyes as they repeated their plans with exaggerated patience and slowness before grabbing his wrist with a vice-like grip and steering him out of the staff room after Peggy was done, away from Bucky, who was currently seated in a corner texting nonstop, a huge smile on his face. 

Dammit, Steve hated Skye, and he hadn't met her.

“What's going on?” Natasha asked bluntly, choosing an empty table in the cafeteria and shoving him into a seat after she'd bought them both grape soda. Steve sought in his mind for the most logical excuse, before he floundered and blushed again. There was absolutely no way he could lie about this, but he made a valiant effort anyway.

“Oh, it's nothing. I've just gotten an email from this academy's choir, they need an accompanist for their concert next January and I’ve always wanted to you know, play the piano professionally, so I agreed and they've sent me the repertoire for their songs and it's a very complex list of music in every genre so I’ve got to start practicing right now because my first session with them is on Saturday afternoon two weeks from now and I’m expected to know three songs beforehand and the conductor even mentioned that i might get a solo performance, just one piece, if time permits and that's very —  "

Steve broke off when Natasha covered his mouth with her hand.

“What?” He spluttered.

Her clear hazel eyes were tinged with…sadness? He glanced away and took a sip of the grape soda. “You're rambling, you do that when you lie.” Natasha stated matter-of-factly before squeezing Steve's hand tightly. He flinched, ashamed at how well she read him, and his resolve to keep his mouth shut broke immediately when she stood up, walked over and pulled him into a bear hug, his head squashed in her chest, her perfume bringing him comfort and suddenly, Steve felt tears prickle his eyes. He’d been so stupid and ignorant, and he was now dealing with the consequences of his delusional thinking.

“B-Bucky has a girlfriend, Natty.” Steve said when they pulled apart, not that she didn't know. Bucky had been talking about her all week, talking about their memorable dates and how gorgeous she was, and even when the 2 of them were having dinner or watching movies, Bucky would always slip in comments about Skye. Not that it made Steve want to throw her into a pit of lava or kick her to outer space or anything. Natasha nodded as though this solved the matter. “Do you want me to beat her up?” She asked seriously, and Steve knew without a trace of doubt, that Natasha could do so if he really wanted her to. He wanted her to. He really did want her to. He really did.

He laughed bitterly. “Don't, I don't want him to lose his newfound happiness.”

If Bucky was happy with skye, who was Steve to step in between and ruin everything just because he had a crush? Who was Steve to drive a wedge between them? Could Steve ruin a relationship and sleep peacefully? The answer was no, he could not. Not now, nor ever. Natasha was silent for a moment, then she hugged him again, and Steve knew that he'd had to hold this one in on his own.

-

“Sorry we're late, we had some catching up to do.” Bucky’s melodious voice pierced through Steve's thoughts as every head at the table swiveled around to look. They were at the bar, and Bucky had asked if he could bring Skye along. Much to Steve's chagrin, everyone had agreed (they had been so interested in meeting the woman who had stolen Bucky’s heart.) and so here she was, all five feet eight inches of toned arms and tanned skin. From the blush that spread across her cheeks and the hickey she was sporting and the lipstick on Bucky’s shirt, Steve knew exactly what  _ catching up  _ meant, and took a gulp of his cocktail, trying to erase a scenario that involved beating her up from his head.

Bucky was wearing a plain navy blue v neck that made his biceps look even better and his chest perfect. He had his arm draped around Skye's waist, and Steve had to admit, she  _ was  _ pretty. She was almost as tall as he was, and her blonde hair was tied in a neat french braid and her blue eyes sparkled as she waved and shook hands with everyone. Steve noted that she too, like him, had a dimple on her chin and one on her left cheek.

_ Bitch. _

“Hey, I'm Skye.”  _ Bitch we know. _  She smiled as he shook her hand and muttered his name, his smile forced and his gaze fixed on the tabletop. Even her voice was a flawless soprano, no wonder Bucky liked her.

_ Bitch. _

Over the course of dinner, Steve found himself liking her less and less, even though she was easily one of the most easygoing and funny person he had ever met. She seemed to be able to make Tony's jokes actually funny with a snide comment or two, and she had clearly won Clint over by talking about archery for a solid fifteen minutes.

_ Bitch _ .

 Steve even saw Natasha waver when Skye complimented her makeup sincerely and made small talk with her for half an hour which resulted in the two of them smiling as though they were best friends. Thor seemed to like her very much, especially when she challenged him to a chicken nugget eating contest and devoured the ten chicken nuggets three seconds faster than he did.

_ Bitch. _

“She's a keeper, Buck.” Peggy laughed, clinking glasses with Skye, and Steve couldn't help noticing that at some point (after he had plotted 62 ways of how to get rid of Skye’s body after he had killed her), Skye had let Peggy try on the same burgundy lipstick she was sporting. And Wanda had taught Skye how to braid her hair in some fancy way. 

_ Bitch. _

Bucky winked at Skye, who blew him a kiss, and Steve excuse himself so that he wouldn't reach over the table and throttle Skye like he wanted to. She had clearly won over all of his friends, and to be fair to her, Steve was quite impressed with her knowledge of musical theatre. 

_ Bitch. _

Splashing cold water on his face in the restroom, Steve sighed in defeat. Bucky was never going to choose the slightly (very) insecure Harry Potter nerd/pianist over the cool, hilarious and outgoing girl who radiated confidence and smiled often. He was fighting a losing battle, and Steve ran his hand through his disheveled blond hair and sighed to himself for the one thousandth time.

_ Stop trying, Rogers. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M AT 870 HITS!!??!??!!!!!??
> 
> i'm probably sounding like a broken record now but THANK YOU EVERYONE who decided to give my fic a chance, and left kudos and comments :-)
> 
> i tried to thank y'all properly by uploading an extra long chapter ( 3100+ words !!!! ) so i hope you enjoyed it. if you did, MY JOB IS DONE, if you didn't i'm going to kill Skye. deal?
> 
> ( also drinking game : every time steve calls skye a bitch, take a shot )


	12. Chapter 12

The notes of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata sounded dry and listless even to Steve. He repeated the same four bars over and over and over, trying to coax some feeling out of the usually moving melody, but instead the notes came out flat and chunky, the complete opposite of what he wanted, the complete opposite of what they normally sounded. He slammed a few random keys in utter frustration, momentarily forgetting Natasha's presence and groaning loudly, running his fingers roughly through his hair, which was lying in a disheveled mess. Her golden retriever, Kat (Clint was a big believer in irony), leapt up in fright from where she'd been dozing under his feet and sped towards the kitchen, barking loudly. Steve cast her a guilty look before turning to his best friend.

“Tough time?” Natasha asked sympathetically, passing Steve a mug of warm water, which he gulped down gratefully before attempting the opening bars of the song again. (This attempt sounded the worst out of all the past seventeen.) He'd rejected Bucky's offers to come over to make a blanket fort by claiming he had plans with Natasha, and in the end, had called his best friend over to ease the guilt in his stomach. At least this wasn't a lie, unlike almost everything he had said to Bucky for the past week. He’d tried so hard to remain on normal terms with Bucky, drinking hot chocolate and running together in the evenings at the neighborhood park, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to keep pretending that everything was fun and life was good and he was happy and things were all hunky dory. but he tried, and he was  _trying_.

His fingers hit a wrong note and he closed the cover of his piano in defeat.

“Stop moping, Steeby.” Natasha told him severely, ripping open a mask and spreading the white paper over her face.

Steve opened his mouth to fight back, but as if on cue, his phone vibrated.

_One message from Bucky._

_Bucky: Hey Steve, you seem a bit off lately, are you alright? (-:_

Steve showed the message to Natasha, before laughing it off with mock cheer (and two laughing emojis) and blaming his exhaustion on his choir piano rehearsals and increasing work load, waving off Bucky's concerns with a _'I’m okay, seriously!!'._ He hoped that Natasha's “I don't buy that bullshit, Steeby.” would not translate into Bucky's thoughts. He tried to steer the conversation out of dangerous waters when Bucky started typing nonstop for one whole minute by asking him to come over on Saturday for another round of Mario Kart, and was momentarily happy when Bucky typed  _I'd love to._ But 4 seconds later another message came in, and Steve felt as though he had drank a glass of ice water when Bucky told him he had plans with Skye. He was about to subtly remind the brunet that Saturdays were  _their_  thing, before remembering that he had been the one who cancelled all three of Bucky’s plans on three consecutive Saturdays.

“Fuck you, Bucky.” he muttered, upset.

“That's the spirit!”

“Fuck you too.”

-

When Bucky came over to Steve's on Friday night uninvitedtwo weeks later(they had no plans, Steve cancelled them  _again_.), Steve was in the midst of preparing a PowerPoint slide for a lecture on Monday(he didn't really need to, but he felt half guilty for lying to Bucky). The three soft knocks on his door startled him, and after checking to see that his old sweatshirt wasn't stained with the chocolate ice cream he was eating, he pulled open the door without checking the peephole. Bucky stood there, still in the clothes he had worn to school, and he was holding a greasy paper bag in one arm and was smiling slightly nervously at the blond man, smelling deliciously of cinnamon.

Steve had been getting distant from Bucky, not that he was trying to _not_  be distant, responding to his jokes with a smile instead of his usual grins, texting Bucky less frequently and more formally, having lunch with Tony and Clint instead of Bucky. He'd sworn up, down, left, right that he would be nothing but happy for Bucky's new relationship, but had found it increasingly difficult to when Bucky came to work sporting hickeys on his neck or a lipstick stain on his jacket. And so he'd taken a few steps back. (Or so he thought).

Not that Bucky realized this was happening; he seemed to be preoccupied with Skye so much that Steve noticed how his very slight cold shoulder had gone almost completely unnoticed.

“Hello,” Steve said neutrally, forcing the corners of his lips to turn upwards as he stepped aside and allowed Bucky to enter his house. There was a brief pause before Bucky passed the bag of food to Steve.

“Were you busy?” Bucky inquired with equal politeness, gesturing to the laptop, and Steve shook his head mutely, slightly ruffled by the formal tone Bucky was using before he felt a stab of guilt because yes, well, he was doing it to Bucky too. “Okay, that’s good, I was thinking we could go and prank Natasha. If you want to.”

Ah, pranking Natasha.

It seemed so long ago how Steve had bought a dog whistle and the two of them had crouched in the bushes near Natasha's house atmidnightand listened to Kat go crazy, interrupting what had sounded like a very passionate night. (Natasha never found out)

Not to mention how Bucky had rigged the hose so that when Clint went to wash the car, water shot out in the opposite direction, soaking Natasha completely and then running away when Natasha chased them for about three blocks after they got caught.

Or the time when they sneaked green hair dye into Natasha's shampoo (Clint helped) and were made to pay for Natasha's emergency trip to the salon to fix her hair (a hundred dollars each, but Steve and Bucky laughed together for a solid forty minutes).

 

Steve's face felt stiff when he grinned at Bucky for the first timein two weeks. “She told me she bought a new hairdryer on Amazon, and it was arriving tonight, so i was hoping we could go fill it up with baby powder first.” Bucky said enthusiastically, holding up a small blue bottle and some tape, perking up at Steve’s enthusiasm.

He was already so enamored by Bucky, which was why maybe Steve offered no resistance as he traded his sweatpants for a pair of jeans and pulled on his jacket, hoping that he would not regret any decision that had led up to this moment. “Are we running?” he asked, a lame question really, when driving was obviously going to slow them down (Natasha egged his car the one time he drove them over). Bucky nodded, and Steve realized he was wearing dirty Vans, having traded his polished black shoes for something that seemed more casual.

And then they ran over to Natasha's place, just in time to see a van with the Amazon logo parked in front of the driveway and a man getting out, holding a square box and fiddling with an earpiece. Steve hung back as Bucky stepped forward to claim the box for “his sister”, and signed on the tab that had been thrust at his face.

Bucky turned to Steve, a wicked smirk on his face.

-

“Ouch, Steve. You taped my finger.” Bucky complained, elbowing the blond in the ribs as Steve fumbled with the tape in the dim light, his fingers slippery from all the baby powder. Steve hissed an apology before sealing the box and the two of them rung the doorbell on Natasha's house, trying valiantly not to look guilty or overly excited. Clint answered, Kat panting happily behind him and his gaze fell on the box Steve was holding out. “Why's Nat's hairdryer with you?” He asked suspiciously (Natasha had punished him and made him sleep on the sofa for a week after she found out Steve and Bucky had included him on their pranking adventures). Steve was thankful that it was dark, it gave him some time to hide his blush as Bucky stepped in smoothly with a “Oh, the delivery guy saw us here and asked us to pass it to you because he was in a rush.”

And they stepped in, and Steve passed the hairdryer to Natasha, who was lying on the couch in a sports bra and exercise shorts. It had long since been established in the friendship between Steve and Natasha that they had absolutely no modesty or privacy issues, and even after all these years, Natasha was still blissfully ignorant of how the rules might need tweaking now that they were older.

“Nice abs, Nat,” Bucky said, bending down to hug Kat (or to bury his giggles in her fur) just as Natasha took the box from Steve. “I'm going to try this now, see if it works,” She mumbled absentmindedly as Clint retreated into the study, presumably to work. Steve stuffed a fist in his mouth to keep from laughing as Natasha peeled off the sticky tape without so much as realising it had been resealed. He was going to die. Of not laughing.

Steve caught Bucky's eye, and the brunet smirked, much more professional at hiding his laughter, rolling a small red ball on the floor for Kat.

Natasha removed the hastily re-taped bubble wrap, and Steve's sides was shaking from the effort he took to prevent himself from laughing and his palms were slightly swollen where he had been digging his fingernails in an effort to compose himself.

She plugged the hairdryer into the socket, and thank god Kat had bounded over to lick her face so the small puff of white powder was unnoticed. Steve was gnawing his lip with a ferocity that he seldom knew.

She turned on the switch, and Steve turned away from Bucky, who was now spasming slightly on the floor, red in the face.

And then she turned the hairdryer on, and there was a sound like a gun shot, and white powder exploded into a fine, white cloud around her face. Her scream was masked by Bucky and Steve's guffaw, the both of them rolling on the floor, red faced and laughing uncontrollably.

Natasha turned to them, her face completely white and her eyes narrowed into slits. In all other circumstance Steve would have wilted under that glare, but her snow white face and neck only set him off into another peal of laughter, just as Bucky let out a scream of mirth when she turned to him. “YOU BLOODY USELESS TWATS—” Natasha shouted at the top of her lungs, and Steve and Bucky continued to wipe tears of laughter from their eyes. There was an intense thirty second tirade of fluent Russian curses, before Clint poked his head out, understood what they had both done, and promptly collapsed on the sofa with a guffaw.

“Oh man...s-sorry,” Bucky said, hiccupping as he wiped tears from his eyes, still lying on the floor.

Steve lay where he was, gasping slightly. “Yeah, Nat. Your face..” He broke off as giggles consumed him. Natasha was having none of it, and she stood in the middle, her face as white as snow and her hands planted firmly on her hips.

“Get your asses out of my damn house right now.” She said fiercely, kicking Bucky in the thigh and yanking Steve up by the ear, but Steve saw the corner of her lips twitch. Natasha wasn't really mad, she was just pretending so that they would feel contrite enough to not prank her for a couple of weeks. Steve bet that she secretly enjoyed their little fiasco, even if it happened at her expense.

Bucky and Steve were quite literally kicked out of the house, and as Natasha slammed the door shut behind the both of them, still swearing loudly, Steve felt an inexplicable contentment settle in his chest. “That was fun,” Bucky said mildly as they started back into the direction of Steve's apartment. Steve agreed, slightly puzzled at his current calm state of mind and hyper aware that Bucky was in extremely close proximity.

“Partners in crime?” Bucky asked, holding up a fist as they stood at the pedestrian crossing and watched cars drive past.

Steve fist bumped Bucky, nodding enthusiastically.

“Partners in crime.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE THOUSAND HITS.
> 
> started from the bottom ( 3 kudos from my 3 friends ) anD NOW IM HERE HAHAHA  
>   
> I'm more than halfway to my goal of 2000 hits by the end of the fic * dances energetically *  
>   
> thank you for your support, always.


	13. Chapter 13

"Do you want to stay for a while? We could eat the food you brought and..." Steve began, happily admiring the glitter on the pavement and turned to grin at the brunet, but trailed off when Bucky shook his head firmly. "Can't, sorry. I'm going over to Skye's. Do you know any florists around here? She loves peonies."

 

Steve felt as though he'd swallowed an entire glass of ice water, freezing his insides.

 

He shrugged as nonchalantly as possible and tried not to frown as he waved to Bucky, who had started the engine of his car and was reversing out of the parking lot with one of the hastiest goodbyes in Steve's memory. Feeling slightly crushed and very lonely, Steve turned to the lifts and tried to sort of his thoughts — jumbled and noisy in his head.

 

It's just an infatuation, Steve.

 

_But what if it isn't?_

 

Yes, it is. Don't kid yourself.

 

_But I have real feelings -_

 

He's taken. Now snap out of it.

 

"Hey, what are you looking at?" Sam smiled, emerging from the mailbox and holding a stack of letters. Steve shook his head, tried to relax the tension in his shoulders and rolled his eyes, just as they stepped into the lift together and Steve's mind gave him a welcome, but temporal respite from all thoughts Bucky related.

 

-

 

That night Steve sat at his piano, playing a sonata in perfect pitch and expression, though his fingers moved with practiced grace, his heart had drifted, as it so often did. He admitted to Natasha to sourcing for new ballads and foreign waltzes (she had gotten suspicious when he spent a lot of time downloading PDF files and buying scores online), unsure of which song he would play for Bucky for the first time. He wanted it to be something that would resonate with his friend, something that would leave the brunet totally speechless. 

 

He'd nixed Vivaldi's Spring.

 

Then Ballad pour Adeline.

 

Then he rejected Figaro's Wedding.

 

And Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake.

 

Then he crossed out Marriage d'amor.

 

And for the rest of the night he experimented with Broadway, opera music, famous classical pieces, choral accompaniments, 21st century pieces, a snazzy jazz piece, a range of romantic style period music and countless sonatinas and sonatas until he eventually found the winner. And so he played it over and over and over and over and over, the coarse melodies eventually becoming into a rich chord combination which rose and fell with the commands of his fingers, as the notes transformed into something else entirely in the key change, and Steve closed his eyes, allowing himself to fully embrace the complex harmony as the notes rose in volume from a piano to a mezzo piano to a mezzo forte to a forte and as Steve struck the final series of notes, an eight note chord at fortissimo, the song ended, a shimmering, flawless piece that raised the hair at the back of his neck.

 

Steve smiled proudly.

 

Bucky was going to die of awe.

 

-

 

"...and then I was kidnapped by a mutant turtle who tried to force feed me liberal amounts of mashed brains." Sam continued conversationally.

 

Steve jolted in surprise, wiping a bead of sweat off his brow as his run slowed to a jog before he gaped at his friend in horror. "What? Brains what?" Sam rolled his eyes and slapped his forehead with an exaggerated 'ohhh' sound. "Oh, so you were listening to me instead of smiling that maniac smile you had on since we started the run." He said, sarcastically as Steve's already rosy cheeks flamed brighter. 

 

He had stayed up until two last night, rehearsing the song over and over and over until his back ached and his fingers tingled, thankful that his apartment had been soundproofed for his many late-night piano adventures, and finally mastered the song. He was so proud with himself, it was as though Bucky would be listening to him play any time soon. Not that he had been praying or anything. Nope. Totally not. Definitely nope.

 

"...yeah and then i was forced to brush my teeth with a fork as the banana ghost—" 

 

Steve realized he had drifted off again a bit too late and Sam was back into his usual sarcastic mode, and quickly elbowed his friend in the ribs as sam retaliated with a dig in the shoulder.

 

"How was the sex?" Sam asked bluntly, and Steve choked on his spit, his neck heating up.

 

"The what?" He spluttered incredulously, hacking loudly.

 

"Nobody is all smiley and shit in the morning during a cardio workout unless they had really good sex." Sam stated matter-of-factly as Steve's eyes bulged out and he tried to push away every thought related to sex and Bucky and sex with Bucky.

 

"I did not have sex." Steve insisted as they rounded the corner and their apartment came into view.

 

But he did think about Bucky a bit too often than was healthy, in fact it was very unhealthy, and most of these thoughts usually translated into a hurried grab for the lube he kept in a drawer and about half an hour on his bed with his trusty right hand or an extremely long shower. But that was his own personal business, and they did not make him smile at cardio workouts. Or so he thought. Sam, that bastard, only laughed as he put his hands up in mock surrender, making Steve seethe quietly, wondering if he was being that obvious.

 

-

 

"I hate myself," Steve moaned to Natasha, running a hand through his hair as he pulled her aside into a quiet hallway to let himself rant at whatever volume he wanted. The redhead merely nodded patiently, as Steve barrelled on, aware that he was sounding like a petulant child, but too conflicted to care much. "I think I have a crush on Bucky. Like a real one. I was thinking of him during our run and I got smiley and shit and I think Sam thinks something is up. He keeps smirking at me."

 

Natasha, in a sign of true and loyal friendship, did not laugh. She only rested a hand on Steve's shoulder, squeezed, and said gently, "You should talk to him about your feelings, you know. Yes, he's dating Skye,—" she admitted when steve glared at her, "but if you keep this inside, it's not going to help. I'm still pretty sure he assumes you're straight, because he asked me if you were and I didn't blow your cover." Natasha gave Steve a tight hug another as they walked back to the staff room arm in arm.

 

"If you keep things in, you're bound to explode, Steeby." She concluded, almost sadly. it scared Steve how well she knew him, he'd sworn to keep his feelings in, and he'd sworn that he would try to keep some distance, knowing that he would snap if he was in close proximity again.

 

And so he did.

 

Their dinners on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays had been reduced to only Tuesdays, during which Steve would usually cut things short at 9, claiming a busy work schedule and a lot of lectures to prepare for. and he would try to steer their entertainment towards movies or TV, whereby they had minimal conversation. he switched off the notifications for his phone, so his replies to Bucky's texts were hours later, and conversation starters on his part were minimal. He'd never one-word Bucky, but had toyed with the idea when he'd strolled down the street one night and caught Bucky and Skye making out in a dark corner. Dang her.

 

His heartache grew and grew and grew whenever he saw Bucky come into work with a crumpled shirt and a bruise on his neck, or when he ordered flowers at the end of the day so he could bring them to Skye, or how he seemed to disappear during lunch breaks and come back with mussed up hair and lipstick smears on his chin, smiling like he had just won a million dollars. Perhaps Steve was so preoccupied with giving the cold shoulder that he hadn't realized Bucky's deteriorating health until he called in sick, and natasha none too subtly informed Steve that Bucky was down with a fever, and that he enjoyed herbal chicken soup.

 

Which was why Steve was now standing in front of Bucky's house, holding a flask of hot herbal chicken soup and Bucky's favourite tuna sandwiches, regretting every decision in his life that had led to this moment and thanking the gods that there was no foreign pair of shoes in the doorway.

 

"Hey?" Bucky asked, his voice weak and his face sagging with exhaustion as he looked at Steve before holding the door open. He'd been very reluctant to show Steve his house, claiming that his house was far too messy, or that he never tidied up. But as Steve walked in for the very first time, he realised why. While Steve's apartment was sharp lacquer and aesthetic colour combinations, Bucky's was the opposite. His sofa was a snuggly navy blue, and there were murals on his walls. Steve admired the intricately painted plants and flowers as he side stepped a large beanbag in a cheerful pale pink colour. He'd strung fairy lights all around the house, and there was a wonderful smell of tea tree from the scented candle perched on top of a massive bookshelf overflowing with novels and story books and comics and plays.

 

Bucky flopped listlessly back onto the sofa and rubbed his eyes blearily. Masterchef was playing on his TV, and he switched it off to face Steve. "So," He began, clearing his throat weakly, "what brings you here?"

 

Steve opened the carrier and steam rose up in lazy spirals. "Natasha told me you were down with fever, so I brought you soup." He said holding out the container and a spoon, smiling hesitantly at the weary brunet. Bucky accepted both quietly as Steve picked up the small bowl of ice and water Bucky had left on the coffee table, along with a handkerchief and carried them to the kitchen.

 

He returned with a fresh bowl of ice cubes and saw Bucky holding the spoon, his hands trembling slightly and staring blankly at his socked feet. Steve reached over wordlessly, plucked the spoon out of bucky's shaking hands and dipped it into the soup. He scooped out some and held it out, a silent offer to feed Bucky, his own forehead tense with worry at the five seconds it took for bucky's gaze to focus on the spoon hovering near his chin.

 

There was no warmth in his friend's eyes when he first entered the house, but now, the ice in Bucky's eyes seemed to thaw. He opened his mouth obediently, and for a while, there was silence except for the clinking of the spoon in the pot and bucky's laboured breathing.

 

"Get some rest," Steve murmured quietly when the soup was finished. Bucky burrowed back under his pile of comforters as Steve placed the ice filled bundle on his forehead. "Are you mad at me?" Bucky whispered as Steve placed his container back into the carrier and passed Bucky some aspirin and a glass of water.

 

Guilt ripped through Steve's chest as he turned to face his friend, noticing that how, for the first time, Bucky seemed completely vulnerable and honest. His face was pale and his eyelids were drooping in exhaustion and his cheeks were hollow, but he forced them open as he waited patiently for Steve's answer. "I'm not," Steve said, watching as the medication took effect and Bucky shifted underneath his covers, considering the truth behind steve's reply.

 

He stood up, and walked towards the kitchen, not before he heard Bucky whisper, "then why don't you want to talk to me any more?"

 

-

 

Steve put the potato salad he had just made into a plastic container and stuck it back in the fridge before he started on making Bucky some more egg sandwiches and more soup for Bucky to reheat and drink when he was feeling better. Then he cleaned up the house, mopping the floor thoroughly and cleaning the mess he made, popping in every ten minutes to feed Bucky a spoonful of water and adjust his ice pack.

 

So far so good.

 

 

 

He retreated back into the spotless kitchen, and for the first time, noticed the many pictures stuck on the fridge with colourful circular fridge magnets. There was a picture of him, pouting, a controller on his lap. He had remembered Bucky taking a picture of him after he'd lost another round at Mario Kart. His gaze was focused on the television, but from the angle Bucky took the photo, he could tell the glimmer of amusement in his own eyes, subtle but still noticeable.

 

The next picture was of Natasha and Bucky at Natasha's wedding. She was wearing a gorgeous dark blue gown that clashed magnificently with her hair, pinned up and a small silver tiara on her head gleamed in the photo. She was carrying Bucky bridal style, while the latter laughed at the camera, holding a glass of champagne, looking carefree and happy and so, so handsome.

 

His hair was tied in a man bun in the next picture and bucky was wearing a turtleneck with a motorcycle jacket, and Clint was standing next to him in the photo, head thrown back and both of them were holding up massive mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows.

 

Tony was in the next picture, and he was dancing what looked like the salsa with Pepper. It was a beautiful shot, and Steve smiled, noticing Pepper's exasperation in the picture as Tony tilted her back towards the floor in a dramatic dip, both of them in stunning red outfits.

 

There was an unfamiliar woman in the next photo, her arms around Bucky's shoulders and a birthday cake in front of them. Her hair was a similar shade of brown/black and her eyes held love and mischief, her grin making steve smile to himself. there was a neon blue party hat on top of Bucky's head, the kind with yellow feathers, and he was sticking his tongue out at the camera.

 

And there was another picture of Steve, this one taken by Natasha, when she'd walked into Steve's house unexpectedly and caught a picture of Bucky on the floor laughing his head off, and Steve sticking his tongue out playfully, both of them wielding chopsticks and wearing wizard robes bucky bought online from a Halloween themed shop.

 

And in the midst of all the happy photos, Steve was wrenched by guilt, at how he'd punished Bucky for being happy without him, at how he'd not bothered to pick up Bucky's calls which presumably had been to tell Steve he was sick, and how crushed Bucky seemed to have been, and what an asshole he'd been to someone he called his close friend.

 

He tiptoed out of the kitchen, adjusted Bucky's ice pack before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and counting the angry red marks on his wrists. There were seven fresh ones, bright red that were bleeding very slightly, and Steve's heart broke all over again as he ran a gentle finger over them. "Bucky," He whispered, horrified before he grabbed the first aid kit on top of the bathroom cabinet and against his better judgement, cleaned up the cuts and carefully bandaged them, not pausing to look up, completely absorbed in his work.

 

When he glanced up from his task, he was met by a pair of hazel eyes staring at him, slightly unfocused, but filled with anger. Bucky pulled his arms away from Steve and cradled them to his chest. Steve braced himself for a verbal lashing, and he was ready to accept it, as long as he had treated Bucky's cuts properly.

 

There was a tense silence.

 

"Doesn't it repulse you?" Bucky murmured tentatively, glancing up at Steve from behind his eyelashes. Steve swallowed and shook his head. How was he supposed to explain that he still thought Bucky was all perfection despite how he mutilated himself? How was he supposed to tell him that he wanted to be the one who could always bandage Bucky's wrists for him? How was he supposed to confess his feelings while Bucky was in a good relationship with someone honestly wonderful?

 

 "I just... wanted the... um..." He squeaked helplessly, the confession dancing on his tongue.

 

Bucky took a deep breath. "You've been giving me the cold shoulder for two weeks, Steve. And then you come and bandage my wrists and act like nothing's happened. But something has and we both know it. I'm not going to get mad at you, but I think you've destroyed something crucial in our friendship. I don't even know why." Steve nodded, as tears threatened to spill over. He'd known this. He had to live with it. But he couldn't break Bucky's relationship. He could, but he would not.

 

"I'm not saying I hate you," Bucky began, his voice slightly raspy and his eyes held something Steve couldn't understand.

 

"But I'd like you to leave, please."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE TO Y'ALL!!!!!
> 
> I'm at 1234 hits and im so thankful for all the support i have gotten so far! im sorry about the delay in uploads, and so as a christmas present from me to all of you,  
>   
> THE STUCKY KISS SCENE CHAPTER THING will be uploaded tomorrow, YES, on christmas day itself! ( and YES i'm done prolonging what all of you came here for )  
>   
> stay tuned :-)


	14. Chapter 14

And they were back to square one.

Bucky avoided Steve, the eye contact was basically nonexistent, plans were all canceled by Bucky, they stopped having chatting after work, Steve didn't initiate another prank on Natasha, they didn't text each other.

Steve didn't mention anything to Natasha, but the observant redhead figured something out in approximately three seconds flat when Steve offered Clint and her his reservations at the new Italian restaurant. He'd told her ( about sixty times, and rehearsed his confession three billion times in front of her )he was planning to bring Bucky there, and then finally, confess his feelings tell the brunet that he understood that he was in a relationship, but just wanted to get this weight off his chest, but he'd chickened out. Of course he had. Of course he did. Of course he would.

It also did not help that Steve was losing sleep every single night, plague by his indecision and dilemma and inner conflict, and it made him a lot less pleasant to be around.

It also didn't help that Bucky looked like he was extremely unhappy. ( Steve found out from Natasha that Skye and him and broken up the night before. Not that Steve was thanking his lucky stars or anything.)

-

But something hit him on Friday night, as he stared blankly at his printed reservation for the Italian restaurant ( Natasha had blatantly rejected it, telling him to woman up and " get his boy" ) and threw himself the seventh self pity party of the week. He had to tell Bucky. The secret had been weighing down on him like a massive boulder, had been the root cause of his sleepless nights, inability to focus, and had put him constantly on the verge of tears.

 _Man up, Steve_. He told himself, shaking his head ( Natasha had given him a good scolding. And slapped him when he continued to complain. ) as he folded the piece of paper and slipped it carefully into his wallet and climbed into his bed, folding his glasses and brushing his teeth robotically . The digital numbers on his clock read 11:26pm.

11:34 his heart and head throbbed as he rolled onto his side, mashing his face into his pillow.

11.41 he pulled the blanket over his head and tried to push away Bucky - related thoughts or the smell of cinnamon.

11:52 he wrenched free from his covers and changed into jeans and took a shot of vodka.

11:55 he left the house, to finally go over to Bucky's, ready to shed his pride, dignity and lose whatever he had left.

-

The night air was cool, with ominous shadows cast by the sickly orange street lights and the occasional rumble of a car driving past. Steve began a quick jog to Bucky's apartment, planning his speech and apology in his head, thinking through every point and statement. He _must not_ cry, or start rambling or do anything except be calm and collected and mature and amicable.

He should be out of there in twenty minutes, hopefully as Bucky's friend once more. That is, if Bucky was willing to forgive jackasses and whiners.

He'd missed Bucky, honestly, with his adorable jagged snorts and his squeaky laughter and they way his eyes crinkled when he smiled and when he scrunched his face up and how he was sensitive to Steve's feelings and how he seemed to have everything in common with Steve and how he seemed to really enjoy watching Disney movies and how he always cheated at Mario Kart and how he always sent Steve funny buzzfeed articles with no context and how he always knew that Steve loved cheese fries and garlic bread and how his hair almost smelt like cinnamon and how he never seemed to drink red wine and how he always smiled without his teeth in pictures and how he looked good in black button ups and how he knew all those Harry Potter spells and how he could be witty and rude and sassy and tender and polite all at once and how-

Steve had rung the doorbell before it dawned on him that visiting someone at 12 in the morning was a _horrible_ idea, but before he could sprint back to the lift and get the hell out of here, Bucky had yanked open the door with a " Who the _hell_ is - "

He stopped dead in his tracks as Steve gazed up at him speechlessly, noting how his hair looked deliciously messy and how he had red marks on his face from sleeping and how the weight he'd lost from being sick for a week made his cheekbones more defined.

" What? " Bucky snapped impatiently, since Steve was too busy committing this sight to memory to talk or run away.

Steve jumped a foot in the air before stuttering a weak, " I um, wanted to give y-you this. " And he pulled out a pen from his pocket. He didn't even know he had a pen in there, he just wanted to have an excuse to talk to Bucky without getting kicked or kicked out. He took the pen without looking away from Steve and glanced at it before rolling his eyes, his whole posture oozing with disgust.

Steve wanted to bury himself.

" You walked over to my apartment at twelve in the goddamn night to give me a broken pen that doesn't belong to me? " Bucky asked incredulously, eyes wide with confusion and irritation, his every syllable hinting that Steve was nothing but an idiot.

Steve took a deep breath and stuffed his hands into his pockets before saying hesitantly, " I-I just wanted t-to talk to y-you. " He hoped Bucky would step aside and let him in, but all Bucky did was cross his arms, lean against the door frame and say in a completely emotionless voice.

" Talk. "

This was going to be a lot harder than he imagined. 

-

There was a pregnant silence before Bucky broke it.

" So are you going to stand there and breathe loudly or are you going to talk ? " He demanded implying that the whole thing was an inconvenience. Guessing from the situation, it probably was. Scratch that, it definitely was. One hundred thousand percent.

Steve took a deep breath and counted to five in his head, " I don't understand how you could completely upset me without feeling guilty about it - " He began, just as an inside voice told him that his opening line was extremely screwed up. He was basically digging his own grave. 

_What's new?_

Apparently Bucky thought so too, for he rolled his eyes again for the tenth time and said with an exaggerated sigh, " Is this what you want to talk about? I'm done. " And he made to close the door, sparing Steve a disdainful glance, but Steve wedged his foot in between and glared at Bucky, preventing him from slamming the door shut.

" I'm not done talking. " He said pleadingly, as Bucky pushed the door harder.

Bucky gritted his teeth and glowered. " _I'm done with you._ "

Steve pushed the door back and for a moment, anger coursed through him like a serpent. " Listen to me. " He insisted as Bucky groaned in frustration. 

" No, " Bucky breathed furiously, his face inches from Steve's. " Steven Rogers, you do _not_ have the right to come to my apartment at twelve in the fucking morning to tell me I've hurt your feelings or some fucked up bullshit because if anyone's complaining, it is supposed to be _me_. You've manipulated our friendship into one of your fucking sick mind games, alternating between a cold shoulder and the caring old bestie, for fuck's sake. I tried to understand what the hell was going on, I sent you so many texts, you ignored my calls, you cancelled our plans, you cut short our dinners and then you blame me. Listen to me now, and I am telling you right here in this moment that I'm done with you and your shit and your lame excuses, Rogers. So you can shove your so called talk right up your asshole and leave me the fuck alone. "

And Bucky threw his entire weight on the door, and Steve cried out in pain as the heavy oak slammed onto his wrist with a loud crack. He felt tears burn his eyes as he wrenched free from the door, only to be met by a second hit on his knuckles. Tears swam in his eyes as he finally pulled his hand free, noticing how quickly it had become red, and trying to regulate his breathing.

He cradled his hand gingerly to his chest, inspecting it for broken bones, as a soft whimper escaped his mouth when pain shot up his arm like a fiery lasso. His fingers were throbbing excruciatingly, and he was about to cry, and circumstances were not in his favor and he looked like a mess. He knew a lost cause when he saw one, and he turned away from Bucky, refusing to let himself see the hate in Bucky's eyes. " I'm sorry to bother you, " His voice broke on the last syllable as he pressed his good hand to his eyes and turned away. He'd never felt so pathetic in his whole entire existence, and it didn't help that he was going to cry in front of the same person he wanted to confess his feelings to. The whole thing was such a mess. He was such a mess. 

Bucky's fingers curled around Steve's arm with surprising gentleness. There was pity? in his eyes as he finally murmured, " Come in. "

-

The house was pitch dark, and Bucky immediately let go of Steve's hand. There was the sound of a cupboard opening, and Steve trailed his fingers along the walls, his fingertips brushing against the familiar fairy lights, his heartbeat slowing. 

There was a stretch of silence as Steve's eyes adjusted to the darkness and he made out the familiar shape of the sofa. He started towards it, his hand screaming in protest as he brushed it against something on the coffee table.

" Don't turn around, I'm right behind- "

Bucky's voice was right beside Steve's ear, and in his surprise, Steve whipped around and crashed painfully into the brunet, letting out an embarrassingly loud cry of pain as his Bucky grabbed Steve's forearm to stable himself. Steve took a step back, but it seemed as though the world was conspiring to destroy him, for he tripped over his own feet and Bucky's weight only served to increase the momentum as he collapsed onto the floor, Bucky crashing heavily on top him.

Steve cried out again as a jolt of pain sliced up his tailbone.

There was a deafening silence.

And then it struck Steve like a tidal wave at how _perfectly_ Bucky had fallen on top of him, at how _perfectly_ their bodies seemed to fit together, at how _perfectly_ Bucky seemed to have positioned himself, even though it was an accidental fall. His legs were tangled up with Steve's, and his stomach was pressing onto Steve's hips. His chest was pressed against Steve's and his head was just level with Steve's jaw. Steve wanted this feeling to last forever, to feel Bucky's warmth on his body in the morning and at night, he wanted Bucky to bury his face in Steve's neck when they were lying on Steve's couch, he wanted Bucky's arm to be draped around his waist all the time, he wanted to be able to smell Bucky's hair, he wanted to feel protected and loved and cared for.

" Uh, sorry. Are you okay? I heard you cry out just now, " Bucky began awkwardly as he tried to stand up, letting go of Steve and trying to regain his footing.

Steve's desperation hit him out of nowhere.

" Wait, " He cried urgently, his voice cracking again as he swallowed roughly, " _Please_ , don't move. "

He just wanted to memorize the feeling of Bucky's body against his for just three more seconds. Just three. more. seconds. Bucky gave him and odd look before pulling away with a " I have to get the lights. "

Steve's resolve broke. " Bucky, _please_. I'm begging you. _Please_. Bucky, just don't move. "

Something in his voice gave him away for Bucky hesitated for a fraction of a second before he carefully leaned onto Steve's shoulder and exhaled loudly. And Steve's heart broke into three hundred pieces. He wanted Bucky. He wanted Bucky so much that it gave him heartaches and made him unable to sleep. He wanted Bucky so much that he'd shed his dignity and his pride. He wanted Bucky so much he wanted to bury his head in a hole and never face anyone. He just. He. Just. He just wanted. He just. Just. Bucky.

" Stevie? " Bucky's voice was a quiet, tentative whisper, and dear lord, Steve's heart shattered again at the sound of the nickname. He couldn't reply without wanting to burst into massive sobs, and Bucky's voice, so tender yet so serious, was pushing his limits. " Are you okay? " Bucky whispered again, his thumb absentmindedly drawing small circles on Steve's forearm, his unruly hair tickling Steve's chin.

Steve opened his mouth, determined to laugh it off, but instead burst into tears.

Bucky said nothing, only snuggled deeper into Steve, his nose in Steve's neck and his breaths a comforting warmth. His hands moved to Steve's shoulder blades, where he rubbed them until Steve felt marginally better. Steve's breaths came out in rapid, hacking sobs, as he finally let loose with everything he'd bottled inside for the past few weeks. He couldn't do this. He couldn't. " It's alright, " Bucky crooned softly as Steve tried to say something, only to be choked by another sob rising out of his throat. Bucky said nothing after, he only tightened his grip around Steve's waist and allowed Steve to cry, only making soft hushing sounds.

" I'm sorry. " Steve said in a small voice, hating himself. " I just, I just wanted to tell you that. I have um, I have feelings for you. And I always had. I thought you looked gorgeous the first day i met you, and I wanted to b-be your friend so badly. I tried so hard t-to win you over. And then we became f-friends and honestly, you made me so much happier every single t-time we hung out or played video games or just ate snacks together a-and I honestly enjoyed your company so much, Bucky, I didn't even know i was so utterly attracted to you, and i gradually began t-to fall for you, um , your smile and i thought you looked beautiful whenever you smiled, and I felt so a-at ease with your personality a-and you made me laugh and f-feel good about myself and... Bucky, i don't k-know how to say this. I don't want to have a fling or an affair or anything with you. I genuinely want to start a real relationship, and that's terrifying for m-me because I-I've never been in a real relationship myself and I just- I just want to be the one who'd bandage your wrists and I wanted t-to be the one who'd get you a glass of water when you take your medication and i wanted to b-be the one whose arms y-you'd seek whenever you wake up from a nightmare and i want to g-go on stupid cheesy dates with you and we could go and eat pasta or watch a-a movie or anything. I just wanted you to be a part of my life so badly, and I f-found out you had Skye. And it broke me, Bucky, it really did. All I w-wanted was to start a relationship, but I was too much of a coward to say anything because I w-was afraid to out myself and destroy your relationship, and I was so a-afraid that you'd judge me or reject me. But the truth is that I d-do like you Bucky, and I kept pushing you away because I d-didn't want to get too attached and I've b-been having so many sleepless nights, because m-maybe you'd think I wasn't hot enough or maybe y-you didn't feel anything towards me and i just- I'm sorry for coming over. And I'm sorry for waking you up. And I'm sorry for giving you a cold shoulder. And I'm sorry for being a nuisance. And I'm sorry for everything. "

Steve finished, taking a deep breath as he inhaled the comforting smell of cinnamon.

It was a wonder Bucky understood him through the sniffles and hiccuping and rambling

When Bucky pulled away, Steve let him. He didn't have anything left to lose.

Bucky carefully wiped a stray tear with the pad of his thumb, his eyes holding the familiar warmth that Steve had fallen for. " Skye left me because I used her. She was like you, with a lovely smile and an amazing personality. But she wasn't you. She was far from it. I used her because I didn't - couldn't have you." He paused to snort. " Yes, I did say your name when we were getting it done - " Bucky stopped to laugh and shake his head before continuing, " I was so terrified that if I confessed, I'd lose this friendship we shared. I do have feelings for you, Steve, I love your smile and your humor, I enjoy the conversations we share and the games we play, I miss cheating at Mario Kart and I missed pretending to be wizards, I miss your voice when I go home, and I look forward to seeing you the next day. I didn't want to assume your sexuality, and Natasha denied everything. I found myself warming to your sunny personality, and how you never forsook me when you found out i self harm, or how you never seemed to judge when I took medication, all these things made me develop the feelings I have for you, and I'm so, so sorry I broke your heart. " He whispered, the brown eyes piercing into the blue.

Steve's heart was doing backflips. His brain was buzzing. His head was spinning. He couldn't comprehend. Bucky's tender gaze. His smoldering eyes. His sudden endearing nervousness. This was real. Steve had just confessed his feelings. And Bucky. He reciprocated. Bucky _liked him back_.

Buck's hand was cupping Steve's cheek, the thumb moving up and down with excruciating slowness.

Steve's gaze never left Bucky's. 

Bucky's forehead was a milimetre away from Steve's.

Steve's breath hitched.

Bucky's lips parted.

Steve didn't blink.

Bucky's face held an endearing nervousness.

Steve's eyes fluttered close.

Bucky opened his mouth ever so slightly.

" Stevie? "

Steve leaned closer so that their noses touched.

" May i kiss you?

 

-

 

Steve didn't say anything. His brain was malfunctioning, his heart was hammering wildly, his pulse was rushing.

Blue eyes met brown ones.

He nodded mutely.

Bucky smiled, not his smirk or his tight lipped smile, but a light-up-your-world smile, the one that could end world hunger and the one that could end racism, and his hands cupped Steve's jaw with an unexpected tenderness and his eyes fluttered shut as Steve leaned forward, his body pliant and his right hand reached up and tangled itself into Bucky's long brown hair, the other forming an inescapable snare around Bucky's slim waist, pulling Bucky closer.

Bucky's lips met Steve's, soft and questioning, and Steve could still feel the smile on Bucky's face. For a moment, Steve was completely confused by the close proximity of their bodies, the close proximity of the person he wanted to be together with for such a long time, and he stiffened involuntarily.

But Bucky.

Oh.

There was a sort of breathless gasp that escaped from Steve's throat the moment everything _clicked_ in his head. Bucky was kissing him, his gentle fingers were cupping Steve's neck, and his lips were soft against Steve's. Steve sighed contentedly as he returned the spine tingling pressure, drawing Bucky closer to him, running his fingers in the long brown hair that looked sexy tied up, and beautifully messy when let down.

It was a symphony of teeth and mouth and lips and tongue, each frisson of contact sent sparks shooting from the top of his head to his toes, and then he was acutely aware of the thumb that stroking his cheekbone with soft, gentle, strokes. The quiet moan that left Bucky's throat was what Steve thought was the most wonderfully arousing thing he had ever heard in his life.

And then Bucky pulled away, his forehead still pressed against Steve, when Steve's palm traveled down his cheekbone he realized Bucky's cheeks were warm. Bucky's eyes were so clear, so bright, so brown. His thumb continued to move up and down Steve's cheek, before Bucky learned down and Steve felt his lips press against the side of his jaw.

A hot trail ignited at the side of his face as Bucky's expert mouth traveled up and down the length of Steve's jaw, occasionally sucking and biting and waking up every single nerve ending Steve didn't know he possessed. He let a quiet whimper as Bucky's mouth traveled to his earlobe and his fingers wound tighter in Bucky's hair, wanting more of Bucky, wanting this incredible, wonderful feeling to last for ten years, twenty years, forever.

Bucky's body was warm against Steve's chest, his clearly defined muscles pressing against Steve's abdomen. Steve had never realized how much he loved this body heat until Bucky pulled away. Steve stuttered, unsure of what to say, wanting to gloss over his obvious inexperience with making out until Bucky tilted his chin up and pressed the softest of butterfly kisses on Steve's lips and Steve swore that there and then, his heart stopped beating.

They were quiet for a moment, foreheads a milimetre apart and their breaths mingling with each other, before Bucky remembered that Steve's hand was still in need of tending and lifted Steve up easily, deposited him on the sofa and promised to be back in five seconds, pressing another butterfly kiss to Steve's kiss swollen lips.

Steve lay there, a stupid grin the size of America on his face, his cheeks flushed, his head spinning pleasantly, the feeling of Bucky's lips, breaking him apart then putting him back together so flawlessly.

Bucky returned with an ice pack and a dry cloth.

Steve gazed at Bucky's stunning side profile, remembering the welcoming friction of stubble and the lips, still plump and flushed.

" You're staring, " Bucky said, amused, adjusting the ice pack as Steve jumped and looked away.

" I was just thinking, " Steve shot back, his heart palpitating wildly as Bucky's thumb traced absentminded patterns on Steve's hand.

" Be careful, Stevie, you may get hurt. " Bucky teased.

Steve rolled his eyes and quipped, " I think I just did, because I thought you look beautiful. "

He didn't hear what Bucky replied, because suddenly those sinfully pink lips were on his again, one muscular arm was wound around his waist and Steve's stomach was doing somersaults and his hand was right up in the hair he enjoyed running through his fingers so damn much. The second kiss was just as tender, and Steve felt as though every nerve of his was on fire, burning as though they were never going to stop. And Bucky shifted, so that Steve was lying comfortably on Bucky's chest and Bucky's hands were running up and down Steve's back and it was one of the best feelings in the world and Steve's mind was short circuiting again. And it was real, Bucky was real, the kiss was real, and this moment was real and and and and and-

Bucky pulled away and Steve gazed at him, his breaths uneven.

" How many times are we going to make out until someone acknowledges it? " Steve smirked, not looking down as he shifted the ice pack.

" Done talking, more kissing. " Bucky laughed.

Steve buried his face experimentally into the crook of Bucky's neck, inhaling the all too familiar smell of cinnamon, then smiling when Bucky growled and yanked his head up so that he could crush his lips to Steve's and delve his tongue deep into Steve's mouth and making Steve blush when Bucky let out a loud groan. This kiss was a lot more forceful than their first, and it made Steve's toes curl in pleasure as he hummed gently and tried not to actually cry tears of joy because  _Bucky's tongue was in his mouth._

They were quiet for a while, until Steve removed the ice pack and Bucky shifted so that they were lying side by side, Steve's head resting on Bucky's arm and his injured hand resting on Bucky's waist.

" Can w-we take things slow? " Steve trailed off by yet another brush of lips on his cheek and he peeked up to find Bucky smiling fondly at him.

There was a silence.

And when Bucky finally spoke, his voice was shaking and for a moment, Steve saw how completely vulnerable Bucky was when he asked -

" Steve? "

He hummed in reply, embracing the feeling of a warm body pressed against his own.

" Do you w-want to b-be my boyfriend? "

Steve glanced up at the brunet who was looking endearingly nervous, chewing his lip as he inhaled shakily.

And then he smiled.

And then he traced a finger down Bucky's angular jawline.

And then he nodded.

And then Bucky smiled again. It wasn't his trademark smirk or the one where he didn't show his teeth or any of the grins that Steve had seen, but it was a smile that made his eyes crinkle and laugh lines appeared all over his face. It made Steve's heart melt. And at that moment, Steve realized that Bucky's smile was as beautiful, as captivating, as radiant as the most beautiful sunset that had existed, and would ever exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FELIZ NAVIDAD MERRY CHRISTMAS SEASON'S GREETINGS HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL OF YOU!
> 
> this chapter was incredibly challenging to write because 1. i have never been kissed and 2. i am a female, so i have nO iDEa how a guy would kiss another guy HAHAHA so if there is anything that can't happen in The Art Of Make Outage, i am sorry.
> 
> I spent about three hours on this because I had originally planned to separate the chapter into two, but i was bent on giving you the kiss as a christmas present, so i hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> x


	15. Chapter 15

Going slow meant that Steve didn't spend the night.

Going slow meant that Bucky's hands didn't wander where he wanted them to.

Going slow meant that Natasha would never know what happened.

-

And then when Steve's head hit his pillow at three in the morning (when bucky  _finall_ y got the message that Steve wasn't staying over and after they made out at the door for a solid five minutes) he had never felt so contented in all his life.

He even woke up in a good mood, making himself pancakes and when he started preparing lesson slides, he was actually humming to himself.

He wasn't even a little bit annoyed when Natasha showed up two hours later without so much as a good morning, planted herself in his living room, started eating his Lucky Charms cereal right out of the box and started watching The Office on her laptop, muttering savagely about bad wifi at her own home.

Steve bet himself twenty dollars that Natasha had seen him smiling like an idiot, but was grateful when she kept her mouth shut.

-

“I swear, Steve, you'd better wipe that big ass smile off your face before I injure your other arm.” Sam growled as they worked out on Monday morning (Steve just sat and kept Sam company). Steve rolled his eyes as Sam started on the elliptical trainer but the prospect of seeing his delightfully handsome brunet boyfriend (who had  _professional_ make out skills) at work in an hour made that megawatt smile creep back onto his face again.

He also hummed along to the song during the car ride as Sam stuffed his face with three hash browns he bought from McDonald's while driving, for once, not moaning about his workload or how Sam always spilled the ketchup onto the seat. This was a first, because Sam always complained about Steve complaining, and they never had a peaceful car ride together.

They climbed the stairs, just in time to hear Natasha's heels clacking and her voice carrying down the hallway. “... Barnes, if you smile one more bloody ass time I will cut you into five pieces and stake your head."

Steve's grin widened as Sam sped up so that he could bitch about Steve with Natasha as Bucky hung back to walk beside Steve, holding a mug of coffee in one hand, a folder of papers tucked under his arm. "Good morning," He said, casually, as though they hadn't spent an hour making out and Steve's relationship status had taken a massive change. That son of a bitch had left a massive hickey on Steve’s neck and he'd spent thirty minutes trying to hide it with various shirts and jackets this morning.

"Hello, Bucky," Steve replied with a polite nod.

They stepped into the staff room, where Tony was doing very exaggerated stripper moves and one of Sam's shoes was lying near Tony's feet. Pepper's face was buried in Wanda's shoulder and Thor was aiming a stapler at Tony's head.

A five-inch black stiletto flew across the room and hit Tony right smack on the groin, just as Thor's stapler made contact with Tony's chest.

Natasha held up her palm and Thor slapped it, both of them snorting with laughter as Tony threw both items back at their respective owners and missing by a mile.

Bucky's hand brushed against Steve's forearm and since Steve was so hyperaware of his presence, he glanced up immediately, the grin crawling back to his face once again.

"Mario Kart and garlic bread tonight?" Bucky asked tentatively, just like he always did, this time his smirk was paired with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Steve rated this combination NC16.

Steve nodded eagerly.

"I'll bake cupcakes." He offered, before remembering that he'd never told Bucky about this secret guilty pleasure.

Bucky was already smiling when Steve nodded, but when he heard the last statement, his grin expanded, making Steve's heartbeat quicken.

-

Steve took a deep breath as he gripped the white frosting bag and with some trepidation, closed his eyes, exhaled, opened his eyes and moved his hands. His tongue was between his teeth, and his brows were furrowed in concentration.

The swirl of white formed the perfectly envisioned swirly patter, and Steve put the sixth cupcake onto the tray where it stood proudly next to all its white and brown siblings, smiling at his achievement. Just as he had finished washing up, he heard three sharp knocks on his door and he bounded over excitedly, fighting the urge to yank open the door. He took a deep breath instead, counted to ten and pulled the door open with a bright smile and —

He was greeted by a camera lens and a soft click, and when his grin melted into playful annoyance, Bucky captured that too, smiling at Steve with fondness as Steve stuck out his tongue (he took a picture of that too).

Bucky stepped in, carrying with him a delicious smell of garlic, oregano and his trademark cinnamon scent. And his hair was a mess. Steve loved it.

"These look divine," He exclaimed, taking a photo of the cupcakes as Steve stood awkwardly in the doorway, blushing madly, unsure of how to greet his boyfriend.

Bucky spared him a glance before turning around and leaning his hip on the counter with a smug smile. "I actually wanted to kiss you on the cheek, but you're hot and I don't want to burn my lips." He drawled, and Steve turned even redder before reaching into the fridge and grabbing the bottle of wine just so that he had something to do.

"It's alright," Steve muttered, almost spilling his drink as he racked his head for a plausible response, only to turn around and see Bucky standing behind him, his face so near that Steve could see the fine brown stubble on his jaw.

"I was kidding, Stevie," he murmured, and the corner of his mouth twitched when he felt Bucky's lips press gently against his neck, his toned arms encircling Steve's waist and then the welcome weight of Bucky's chin on Steve's shoulder.

If someone had told Steve that someday a ridiculously handsome man would come over to his apartment, bring garlic bread over, kiss Steve’s earlobe and praise his cupcakes, Steve would've laughed so hard that his lungs exploded.

Now he only tried to prevent too much blood from rushing to his cheeks in the fear that they would actually explode.

"You can ‘Stevie’ me all you want," He began with a cheeky smile as he carried the food to the coffee table and picked up the controllers, "but you have to get ready for a crushing defeat, Professor Barnes."

Bucky took a massive bite out of a cupcake and sat down at his favourite spot on Steve's sofa, flung his legs up onto the coffee table, hogged all of Steve's pillows and narrowed his eyes, "Game on, Professor Rogers."

-

"Come off it, Rogers!" Bucky howled as Steve emerged first. The blond let out a triumphant yell, fist raised and turned to smile at his friend, only to be met by the lens of the camera. The camera caught his grin, before his cheeks flamed red and he ducked his head, feeling self-conscious.

"I'll get more wine," He mumbled, before he half ran to the kitchen. He hated having his photo taken, he always smiled too wide, or blinked, or ruined the shot. And not to mention how every time Bucky snapped a photo, he'd refuse to show it to Steve.

There was silence as Steve busied himself with the cork and he took his time to put the bottle back into the fridge, and he gazed at the black metal. His fridge was covered with post-its of things he needed to do, bills he hadn't paid, grocery lists, and one single picture of his family, smiling and jostling each other to get to the front of the photo.

Bucky was seated on the sofa, fiddling with buttons on his camera, but as Steve reappeared, he tucked the object carefully into his bag and swallowed nervously, his face a mask of embarrassment

"I'm sorry about the picture," Bucky said nervously, misinterpreting Steve's silence as anger. Steve found himself smiling slightly and then he heard himself ask to see the picture.

And there he was.

The screen showed a high definition image of a laughing blond, a white Nintendo controller in his hands, his eyes shining with mischief and chocolate icing on his face, his hair in a mess. Steve looked so unbelievably happy. He wanted Bucky to keep it.

And as he smiled sheepishly and admitted that he liked it, Bucky laughed, head thrown back, and Steve finally allowed himself to relax in the constant clicking of the lens of the camera.

-

"Shit."

Steve was greeted by the lens of the familiar camera, but he managed to hide half of his face behind the bouquet of flowers he had specially ordered a night before the day Bucky had asked him out for dinner. Before Bucky asked him out for their first date. and Steve’s first official date. Ever. The red roses were the cliché classic, their petals each a shining crimson colour, each stalk carefully removed of thorns, the transparent cellophane paper crinkling and the sweet scent of baby's breath intermingling with the stronger aroma of the roses. They were Steve’s favourites.

He'd been so excited at the prospect of going on a date that he'd spent an hour scrutinizing his clothes, refusing to let Natasha into the secret and choosing to sail this boat on his own. This had resulted in him sitting on his bed, panic growing with every minute, wondering what the  _hell_ was socially acceptable to wear on dates to high end Italian restaurants. Also because he had zero experience in dating. And dates to high-end Italian restaurants. 

By the speechless gaze Steve was witnessing, his cobalt blue button down and illegally tight black jeans had passed the test.

"I bought you flowers." He said shyly, holding the bouquet out, as Bucky made no move to let him in, his eyes still travelling hungrily up and down and up and down, stopping more often than not on Steve’s thighs and chest.

Bucky appeared to jolt to his senses as Steve gazed down at the splash of red in his hands, suddenly embarrassed. Gazed down, actually, just in time for Bucky to capture yet another candid picture. "Thank you," Bucky said, taking the flowers as Steve stepped into the house. As he turned to get a vase, Steve allowed  _himself_  to gawk openly at the brunet, seizing up the shapely thighs clad in pants so tapered they must have needed magic to get on without ripping, and a white v neck shirt that did unfair things to his biceps and waist. And he was wearing a  _leather_ jacket, and oh my god, Steve loved the light brown leather jacket that seemed to know how to drape itself artfully over Bucky's shoulders. At the rate Bucky was going, Steve might need to fight boners on a very regular basis. He’d already told Bucky to stop wearing compression shorts and grey sweatpants to Steve’s house when he discovered Bucky’s motives, and this was the brunet's payback.

"You're drooling," Bucky said smugly, placing the flowers on the coffee table, snapping three photos and looking expectantly at Steve, who had choked and was turning as red as the roses, trying to come up with some sort of excuse that no, of course he was  _not_  drooling.

"So, are we going to eat or are you going to stare at my legs for the rest of the night?" Bucky teased mercilessly as Steve fished his car keys out of his pocket and tripped when he heard Bucky's question, his face turning even redder as he tried vainly to defend himself.

"I don't mind the latter. How about you don't eat dinner and eat what's between my legs instead?" Bucky continued, eyebrows wiggling, a devilish smirk on his face as he dropped his voice an octave lower and erupted into a peal of laughter when Steve promptly walked into the closed door and hit his head.

It was going to be a long night for Steve.

-

Bucky passed the camera to the waitress and motioned for Steve to smile, who obliged reluctantly. He shifted so that their shoulders were brushing, and smiled over their plates of pasta. The lens clicked, and Steve felt Bucky poke him in the ribs. He turned in genuine surprise to face Bucky, just as the flash went off again, catching Bucky with a cheeky grin and Steve's surprised smile.

He would never admit this to anyone, but Steve secretly liked the photo. He really, really did.

-

"What's your favourite musical?"

There was no hesitation on Steve's part. 

"Wicked."

Bucky made an ' I approve ' gesture and they slapped palms.

"What was your extra circular in school?"

"I sang for the choir."

"No way! Me too! I was a bass!"

Steve smiled for the seven hundredth time that night.

"I was a tenor."

Bucky seemed to be ready to combust with excitement.

"What is your favourite breed of dogs?"

Steve cocked his head.

"Huskies."

Bucky stuck his tongue out.

"But labrador puppies.."

Steve's wit kicked in immediately.

"You remind me of this dog." He began, doing his best to accentuate his dimples as he smiled at his excited boyfriend.

Bucky's eyes lit up and he cocked an eyebrow eagerly.

"Yeah, you do. It must be because you're a bitch. Pun intended." 

Opposite him, Bucky roared with laughter, his eyes filling up with tears as he doubled over, and Steve found the corners of his mouth twitching as he gazed at the laughing brunet in front of him, feeling this inexplicable peace settle in his stomach as he committed the sound of Bucky's laughter to memory. He swore that if he had to keep one memory for the rest of his life, it would be the sound of Bucky's laugh.

-

"You have to play something for me." Bucky insisted as he followed Steve into the elevator. Steve shrugged modestly, unwilling to admit that he had wanted to play something for Bucky for a very, very long time. He even had six songs up his sleeve that he had rehearsed to perfection. 

"We could uh," Steve started, pulling open the door and switching on the soft orange spotlights. The area near his beloved piano lit up, and Bucky had whipped out his camera and had snapped a dozen shots, before perching the camera carefully on a shelf nearby, angling the camera so that it faced the piano.

Steve nodded with faux reluctance when Bucky asked if he could photograph the moment, and showed Steve a slim black remote as Steve patted the space beside him. Bucky sat down and Steve tried not to blush as their thighs pressed against each other, feeling like a hormonal teenager with their very first boyfriend.

"Could what?" Bucky asked, fiddling with the remote as Steve fumbled with a few pieces of sheet music, ditching his plans and deciding to change things up a bit.

"Sing a duet," He said, nervously, arranging the sheets on the stand and waiting for Bucky to look at it.

_Wicked : The Musical - FOR GOOD_

_Originally sung by Idina Menzel and Kirstin Chenoweth._

"I know, we're not girls, but I thought we could t-try this," Steve said hesitantly as Bucky started to scrutinize the music with an indefinable expression.

The the brunet looked up with the fondest of smiles.

"I'll be Elphaba."

Steve's nimble fingers hovered over the chords, and his eyelids fluttered shut as the soothing, familiar C Major chords rang out in perfect timing. The entry was short, but Steve made the most of it, allowing his fingers to glide effortlessly over the black and white keys and morph the harmonies into a complex chord that resonated in the living room.

He took a deep breath and the music paused for two seconds.

" _I've heard it said, that people come into our lives for a reason,”_ Steve started, thankful that his voice was the smooth melodious tenor he had hoped it was, even though he could not deny the nervous tremble. His fingers danced smoothly over the keys, and he continued, closing his eyes.

" _Bringing something we must learn. And we are led, to those who help us most to grow, if we let them,"_

Steve's fingers were at one with the song. He wasn't Steve. He was the song. His voice was the melody. His fingers moved gracefully of their own accord. He felt his mouth curve upwards, relishing the sound of the music washing over him as he sang his favourite song in front of Bucky.

_"And we help them in return. Well, I don't know if that's true, but I know I’m who I am today, because I knew you."_

Steve smiled in Bucky's direction through the reflection of his piano, never taking his eyes off the music, the black notes as familiar as they could ever be.

His voice rose in volume as he started the next verse, the music climbing in pitch slightly.

And there was a five second interlude.

It was Elphaba's turn.

There was a quiet intake of breath beside him, and Bucky started singing, his voice a fluent melodious baritone that sounded lovely. His voice shook slightly, as they made eye contact and Steve slowed down his playing minimally, smiling bashfully at his boyfriend. Steve closed his eyes again, embracing the sound of Bucky's voice, memorizing every single note he sang, blending the complex chords into a melodious harmony that infused Bucky's melodious tone into something richer, something more resonant.

And then they broke into the overlapping segment, Bucky's voice switched into the clearest soprano as he held the highest note with ease, leaving Steve to fill in the chord with the harmony. And their voices rose and fell in timing, and their voices blended with every chord Steve played, and their duet came to an end as they held the final note together, a perfect fifth apart that gave Steve chills.

"How was it?" Steve asked, twisting his hands anxiously in his lap as Bucky struggled for words.

There was silence.

"Your playing was...  _exquisite_.”

Steve turned away, unused to such praise and his cheeks flamed with their easy blush.

He felt Bucky's palm resting on his cheek, nudging him gently to face him. The cobalt eyes met the hazel ones, and Steve swallowed. "I thought you played so  _beautifully_." Bucky murmured, and Steve saw for a fleeting moment, Bucky's eyes filled with tears.

Steve leaned forward almost imperceptibly, his breath catching in his throat. It felt like his first time all over again, his heart doing flips and his hands shaking and his stomach churning and his pulse quickening and his mind numb.

Bucky's gaze was all nervous excitement.

"May I kiss you?” He whispered, reminding Steve of their first kiss together.

This time, Steve didn't hesitate. One hand was tangled up in Bucky's stupid messy hair, and the other one rested on his waist as Bucky cupped Steve's jaw and pressed his lips to Steve's with such tenderness that Steve thought he would actually explode and die.

The room was quiet, save the occasional gasp and quiet moan as they made out over and over and over on the piano bench, Steve’s lips chasing Bucky’s the minute the brunet broke away. Steve's hand travelled to Bucky's jaw, and Bucky's hand was around Steve's waist and Steve felt as though he was walking on a cloud, his mind blissfully blank as he pulled the brunet closer and brushed his thumb against the stubble he had grown to love.

There was no other word to describe the sensation that was overwhelming him except  _wonderful_. Bucky's skilled mouth seemed to be able to do wonders to Steve's skin, igniting the same nerves, pressing against Steve's jawline. And then Steve was yanking Bucky's hair so that the brunet's mouth would move closer and then when Steve broke apart to inhale, Bucky let out this  _whimper_  that made Steve’s heart clench and then he was leaning forward hungrily, tilting his head and lifting Bucky’s chin so that he could taste Bucky. So that he could -

The spotlights bathed the both of them in a comfortable warmth as they sat on the bench, breaking apart for a few seconds to catch a breath before Steve leaned forward eagerly and Bucky complied with equal excitement, his fingers fisting the material of Steve’s shirt as little moans escaped from his throat, making Steve’s pants grow uncomfortably tight as Bucky rocked his hips forward gently, eyes closed, mouth pressed against steve's jaw. Steve’s whole life had been black and white and grey, and Bucky had come in like this box of vibrance and then suddenly there was orange and blue and green and yellow and red and and and and and —

It took an embarrassingly long time for them to break apart, and that was only when Steve's elbow hit a discordant note. Bucky moved away, his lips swollen and his pupils dilated, a bruise on his neck where Steve had given someone the first hickey in his life.

There was a long pause as they gazed at each other, eyes hooded and breaths uneven.

Then they moved to the sofa.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT BETTER WAY TO KICK START 2017 WITH THE STUCKY FIRST DATE AM I RIGHT?!
> 
> soooo i figured i'd use my ideal first date ( in which case i am steve HAHAHA ) when writing this, and i hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed sharing some details of myself with all of you!
> 
> have a wonderful 2017, everyone! may your bank account be fat, your makeup never smudge and your smile never vanish.
> 
> xx


	16. Chapter 16

Steve fully expected that once him and Bucky became boyfriends, their routines would change. But he didn't exactly know how.

Things would be different.

But he was secretly glad that they didn’t change, he still kicked Bucky in the ribs whenever he cheated at Mario Kart, Bucky still hogged the centre seat of the sofa, they ate garlic bread so often that Bucky started bringing over his toothbrush, Steve still shoved Bucky’s feet away from the coffee table, and the likes of it.

The only change was that instead of kicking Steve's controller out of his hands, Bucky would cheat at the game by pressing his lips on Steve's, and the blond would immediately be so distracted that he would lose his concentration, as well as his winning streak.

Steve learnt how to cheat too, he found out that Bucky had a secret liking when Steve straddled him, and Steve generally would leap into his lap, pull his controller away and then laugh when Bucky shoved him to the floor, no qualms about getting Steve injured. None at all.

And then sometimes Bucky would bring in essays and mark them on Steve's sofa while Steve prepared PowerPoint slides on the floor (he didn't know why he had to leave his comfortable leather sofa, but with Bucky leaning down to press a kiss to his neck every few minutes, Steve was mollified) , allowing a comforting silence to linger, occasionally broken when Bucky whipped out his camera and took candid shots of Steve.

And then if he was lucky, Bucky would bring over his sketchbook and show him a drawing, or tell him animatedly about something he was working on.

So far Steve had only seen three all of them in stunning detail - one of Natasha holding Kat, the dog's tongue sticking out, the redhead beaming at the camera, one of Steve laughing in the restaurant with pasta sauce smeared on his chin and another one of Kat lying on the sofa, her tail wagging. All of them were shaded in perfect tones, sketched with fine grey lines.

Steve loved every single one of them.

He'd played another song for Bucky, Vivaldi's Spring. Tears had formed in those mesmerizing hazel eyes that Steve loved, and Bucky had always begged for an encore or a longer performance, clapping and catcalling enthusiastically.

 

 

Steve had known a lot of sadness in his life. He had lost two grandparents. He had horrible asthma attacks. He was bullied badly when he was young.

But this sadness. This sadness whenever Bucky left his home at night gnawed at the pit of his stomach. This sadness whenever Steve had to remove himself from his comfortable position on Bucky's body. The sadness when Steve drove home after work, no plans with his boyfriend made.

This longing ache to spend just a little bit more time with the brunet made Steve live with a constant heartache as they kept their relationship a secret, unable to do anything except smile at each other in school and make formal chitchat, though Bucky continually pushed the boundaries by making raunchy jokes that made Steve turn fifty shades of red. But  _holy hell,_  Steve loved it. He loved it, and he would never trade this feeling for anything or anyone else in the world.

“How was the sex?" Natasha asked flippantly as Steve entered her kitchen, holding a bottle of wine. Steve choked his face flushing as his grip slipped on the bottle.

The redhead lunged forward and caught the bottle by the stem before it could hit the floor and shatter. “The what?" Steve gasped indignantly. He shoved his best friend and she flung a spoon on his face without so much as blinking. The metal whacked him sharply on the forehead and he glared at her. "The sex, Rogers. You're smiling as though you just got laid." She said, barely wincing as he slapped her on the forearm with all his might.

"M still a virgin, Natty." He mumbled. He'd drawn the line very very clearly at Bucky's apartment before he left, and Bucky seemed to willing to take things slow. Mostly Steve was just too ashamed of messing things up when they actually did it, and then having to tell Bucky he hadn't done anything before. not that Bucky hadn't tried - the guy was chock full of sexual innuendos and pick up lines and it was not common for him to lean over and whisper into Steve’s ear exactly what he felt like doing (Steve had gotten very good at fighting off boners) to the blond.

Natasha seemed to accept this, albeit reluctantly, and she leaned against the counter and turned her attention away from the beef stew simmering on the stove. "Then what?" She prodded as Clint entered the house, his legs splattered with mud and a completely filthy Kat wagging her tail behind him. Steve groaned when Clint glanced at the both of them excitedly. "Are you seeing someone?" Natasha's eyes narrowed until Steve could see the lethally sharp eyeliner, the end a perfect double flick.

Steve was saved by Kat, who had barked and bounded over so when he denied everything as best as he could, he could do it while petting the muddy dog as Clint appeared with a mop. "Bathroom, Kat," He said sternly, and Kat trotted away obligingly, leaving a trail of muddy paw prints as Natasha rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and staring defiantly at him.

"What were we talking about?" Clint asked conversationally as he cleaned up the paw prints.

Natasha shot an evil grin at Steve. "I suspect Steeby's seeing someone."

Steve pretended to barf into the pot of stew.

-

It was Bucky and Steve's first month together, and Bucky had told Steve to go over for dinner. It wasn't as spectacular as the other dates they'd been on, but Steve still dressed carefully, donning a plain grey shirt and his favorite khakis. He'd bought Bucky a gift - a replica of the Elder Wand he'd saw online, and felt it surprisingly appropriate. The duo had fooled around with Steve's Wand Collection, shouting spells at each other and wearing cloaks and simply having a good time. Until Steve had an asthma attack, sometimes.

The box was a pale oak color, and Steve had tied a green and silver ribbon over it, tucked it into his pocket before he went over, vibrating with excitement.

Bucky smiled enthusiastically as Steve knocked the door, his Gryffindor scarf knotted around his neck. "Hello baby," Bucky practically sang, yanking the blond into his house while Steve's mind was still in shock from the casual use of the pet name.

“Baby what?" He asked, his face turning scarlet as Bucky helped him with his jacket and spun him around so he could kiss Steve's cheek,. Steve had long since learnt that Bucky was very physical. He liked to hold Steve’s hand all the time. Or rest his palm between Steve’s shoulder blades or hug Steve for ten minutes straight. Not that Steve minded. He did not.

The brunet looked ashamed, only slightly. “I was trying it out. No baby?" He asked, misjudging the red on Steve's cheeks for discomfort instead of surprised pleasure.

"No baby."

“I’ll try another one, Steve. I don't really have it in me to give up."

Steve chuckled, and then his smile widened at the plate of garlic bread Bucky had left on the table, as well as the neon orange toothbrush, brand new, right beside it. He'd bought Bucky a bright yellow toothbrush as a joke, and this was Bucky's retaliation. They were cheap plastic ones, horrible ones that didn't work properly and couldn't make their teeth white no matter what.

He opened his mouth to make a snarky comment, but Bucky beat him to it, eyebrows wiggling.

“Shut the fuck up and eat, Steeby."

They migrated to the living room an hour later after Steve and Bucky brushed their teeth. And made out on the toilet bowl.

“I have a present for you." Bucky said nervously, holding a thick envelope and a wrapped flat rectangle (sparkly gold ribbon). Steve was reminded of the green and silver adorned box and he pulled it out, before glancing sheepishly at his boyfriend, who had quirked an eyebrow.

They exchanged presents, skipping past the “you shouldn't haves". Steve insisted Bucky open his first, and felt his heart swell at the image of the brunet's speechless joy as he removed the slim stick from the box, marveling in the carefully crafted wood and twirling it expertly between his fingers.

“We can spar properly now, Malfoy."

“Scared, potter?"

"You wish."

“Thank you, Steve."

Bucky's voice was a quiet whisper, and Steve felt an inexplicable fondness as he was pulled into a rib crushing hug, his face pressed into Bucky's chest as the brunet murmured thanks into his ears nonstop, his thumb moving up and down Steve’s cheek, his cinnamon-like smell invading Steve’s nostrils. And then he passed the rectangular present to Steve, looking proud and nervous and happy and anxious all at once.

And then Steve peeled off the wrapping paper of the rectangle, tucking the ribbon into his pocket.

It was a sketch, framed up.

A stunningly detailed picture.

Bucky was laughing, holding his stomach.

Steve looked playfully annoyed, eyes rolling in faux irritation.

The detail was beautiful - from the hair on Steve’s head to the colour of blue of his eyes.

The colours were light, and blended seamlessly together.

Steve felt his throat go tight, as he drank in every single wonderfully drawn and coloured detail in his hands, tears blurring his vision as he glanced at the dates on the corner and realized that Bucky had spent a full two weeks doing it. For him.

“Do you like it?" Bucky asked as Steve hugged the framed sketch to his chest, his voice cracking as he tried to convey exactly how much he loved it, how he would cherish this for the rest of his life, how it was his most prized procession.

Steve couldn't say anything.

But he pulled his boyfriend closer and tried to put the thanks into kisses, tried to convey his gratitude with his touch, tried to show how much he truly appreciated Bucky not just for the gift, but for every single bit of happiness he'd brought into Steve's life.

-

Late that night, after Bucky had left, Steve lay in his bed. Carefully turning the thick brown envelope in his hands before pulling it open.

And he gasped.

Photo after photo of everything Bucky had captured. There was the one where they were at Tony's place, and dozens of candid shots of Steve looking incredibly happy, and little mundane things like a stunning picture of the angle of the piano, and two dozen of them sing the duet, another ten more of them making out on the bench...

Bucky had written dates on the back, and Steve carefully arranged them in order, making sure not to bend them as he tucked them carefully back into the envelope and put it safely into his nightstand before he leaned back down and smiled at the ceiling.

“Thanks, Buck." He whispered.

-

Steve pushed open the door of the classroom hesitantly and peeked inside. He'd never visited Bucky's classroom before, and his eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the dim lighting.

“You’re late, Mr Rogers," Bucky drawled, seated at his desk, his feet propped up and his slim navy tie loosened at his neck. His outfit screamed good boy who went to church on Sundays and brought girls home in time for their curfews, but his eyes said that he was ready to eat Steve out. Or -

Steve tried to play up his seduction. “Sorry about that, Professor Barnes," He put on a faux shy voice and batted his lashes, his easy blush warming up his cheeks as he perched on the corner of the desk, crossing his legs at the ankles and smiling at Bucky.

“I’m going to punish you for being late, Mr Rogers," Bucky said smoothly, sounding  _much_  better than Steve did. For a moment Steve was actually shocked, and Bucky broke character to yank Steve onto his lap and laugh, before yanking the elastic out of his hair and smirking at the blond, running a finger up his thighs.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, his breath hitching as Bucky loosened his tie with languid slowness, dragging his fingers down the white silk of Steve's tie.

A pause, and Bucky nosed at Steve’s neck, careful not to leave a mark.

“Bucky."

The tie was loosened.

"No sex. I told you."

Bucky threw his tie onto the table. Then he grabbed the lapels of Steve’s jacket, pulled him closer, their breaths mingling, their hips brushing against each other, Bucky thrusting forward very slightly, and then right when Steve's eyes fluttered shut and right before their lips touched, he whispered, his voice a low, seductive baritone which made the hairs on the back of Steve's neck tingle.

Then, "I  _hate_ it when you wear khakis."

Steve was so stunned that he didn't respond for a moment, and Bucky doubled over with laughter, pressing his face into Steve's chest and lay there, spasms of mirth shaking his shoulders as Steve frowned and tried to control himself from laughing.

"There is  _nothing_ wrong with my khakis, Buck. Did you seriously leave a note on my desk, sign off as 'your boyfriend', make me come to your classroom during my lunch break, remove my tie, hint to me that we were going to christen your desk or something, and then wrinkle my jacket only to tell me you hate my khakis?" Steve asked, incredulous.

"Yes."

-

A month and three weeks into dating Bucky and Steve felt like he could explode with happiness. There was an indefinable joy to seeing the brunet at his doorstep, or sneaking in a kiss in Bucky's classroom, or little cartoons drawn on post its stuck in between Steve's books and notes, or how Bucky had taken to bringing over his toothpaste because he preferred teeth whitening over extra sensitive.

Natasha, from what Bucky had informed Steve, had been thoroughly grilling Bucky on his intensive smiling. Not that Sam was any less intense, the guy had taken to springing questions at the most random times in hopes that Steve, with his guard down, would let something slip.

But they managed well.

-

“I’m bored," Bucky whined from across the staff room. He and Steve were the only ones who chose to stay in to work during lunch (they'd realized that making out effectively deterred them from getting substantial work done after school hours). This arrangement worked fine, they spoke together freely from opposite ends of the room, occasionally Bucky would come over to peck Steve's cheek when he used the printer, and Steve would run his fingers over Bucky's toned forearm as he got a coffee refill.

Steve barely looked up from the email he was replying to, and mumbled inaudibly.

" _Steve_ _,_ _sweetheart,_ I'm bored."

Steve made a noise like a buzzer at the use of the nickname and Bucky stuck out his tongue like a petulant child before sliding off his desk chair and walking over to Steve's desk, where the blond was immersed in writing something down in his calendar, hair in his eyes.

"Bucky," Steve said in a warning tone as Bucky sat on the edge of his desk and made to close the laptop.

His boyfriend ran a finger down his cheek, very slowly, and forced Steve to meet his gaze. The hazel pupils were dilated, and Steve gulped, knowing that once Bucky got his way, Steve would not be able to resist. Not that he tried to. Not at all.

"You need a break," Bucky whispered seductively, as his thumb drew small patterns on Steve's cheeks and Bucky used his foot to pull Steve's chair closer to the table so he could lean down and put his lips at Steve's ear.

"Bucky, this is a bad idea."

Steve tried to be angry that Bucky was being an admittedly gorgeous distraction, but when all thoughts of frustration vanished when the brunet put his sinful mouth right at Steve's left earlobe and started to suck on it, just the way Steve liked it.

A soft gasp escaped Steve's throat as he moved his laptop out of the way before reaching over to wind both his hands in Bucky's hair and pull him closer. Bucky pulled away, all cocky confidence and smiles as he watched Steve's face turn pink and his breath hitch.

"I guess I should get back to work," Bucky said, a teasing lilt in his voice as he very slowly moved away and winked at Steve, whose face was flushed and his breaths were still uneven.

Steve whined, fat too loudly for his liking.

“Thought this was a bad idea." Bucky said snidely, their noses still touching as Steve broke apart to regulate his breathing. He slapped Bucky gently on the arm before his hands went to Bucky's waist and then they were kissing  _again_.

Steve didn't know exactly how long they were making out for, with him seated on his desk chair, one of Bucky's thighs between his legs, and Bucky perched on his table, leaning downwards one of his hands around Steve's waist and the other in Steve's hair, but he smiled against the rough stubble on Bucky's cheek, inhaling the smell of his cologne and -

_Click_.

Bucky and Steve jumped apart as their heads whipped around and they saw everyone standing at the door, wearing similar expressions of shock and disbelief. Even Nick was with them.

Bucky slid off the table and straightened Steve's tie as everyone surrounded them and Natasha slid her phone into her pocket. Steve was sure his face was as red as the scarlet pencil skirt Natasha was sporting and there was a long silence as everyone gaped at them.

"So, Steeby, what do we have here?"

Steve's cheeks went impossibly redder as he avoided Natasha's gaze.

Bucky's arm slid protectively around his waist, and for a moment Steve was glad that Bucky was glaring at Natasha.

"Steve’s gay. We’re dating."

The silence lasted exactly eighty nine seconds before everyone slowly took out their wallets with grim resignation when someone cleared their throat pointedly.

"Thor, you owe me sixteen dollars. Bucky was on the desk."

Thor slapped a ten dollar note into Tony's palm along with some coins.

Wanda passed twenty dollars to Natasha and sighed in defeat.

Clint stuffed a wad of five dollar notes into Thor's open palm.

Natasha accepted a hundred dollar note from Sam.

Nick slapped a fifty dollar note into Sam's outstretched hand.

Wanda accepted twenty dollars from Clint.

Clint received seventy dollars from Natasha.

Nick slipped three twenty dollar notes into his pocket.

Thor grinned when Wanda shoved ten dollars into his pocket.

Sam threw eighty dollars at Natasha.

"What the  _fuck_?"

Everyone exchanged glances before Natasha spoke, "We all suspected you were dating Steve, Bucky, like everyone was so sure even though nobody knew Steve was gay except me. So we all took bets on how we would find out, who would be on top, where would you be caught, what would you be caught doing, whether Steve would have hickeys, and if -" She broke off smugly and waved the money she'd collected.

"You placed bets." Steve said faintly, wilting under the intense scrutiny of his friend while Clint quietly accepted another handful of dollar bills from Sam.

And then Bucky snorted with laughter, and a bubble of rage bloomed in Steve's chest. He'd been outed. He didn't plan on hiding his sexuality forever, but this was not how he wanted to out himself in front of all his colleagues. And his anger shifted to Bucky, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders with a ‘loosen up, Stevie’. Bucky might have come out happily a long time ago, but Steve hadn't and he was filled with a furious realisation that it was Bucky's fault. It was Bucky who'd outed him and exposed him in front of everyone. Bucky hadn't let Steve come out on his own terms.

Steve shook Bucky's hand off and stood up to face him.

"You outed me." He said quietly, seething with anger, and his was certain that his eyes could burn holes in Bucky's forehead.

The whole room was as silent as a tomb.

“You outed me," Steve repeated, his cheeks draining of blood. "And I wasn't ready to tell everyone yet but you outed me. I told you it was a bad idea, but you didn't listen."

Steve felt sick as Bucky remained silent, not even voicing an apology and he shook his head before turning to Nick. "Permission to leave work early, Mr Fury." He said as evenly as possible, avoiding eye contact with everyone as he tried to salvage a shred of his dignity, as Natasha opened her mouth to speak.

Nick nodded, his eyes sympathetic as Steve grabbed his car keys and sprinted out of the staff room, not even bothering to collect his belongings as frustrated tears ran down his cheeks and the door slammed shut behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO EVERYONE
> 
> sorry for the delay in updates recently, and this is because i've been working on my second story ( not a sequel ) and as a result, proofreading this is second priority. if y'all don't know, YES, i've finished writing the ENTIRE story with epilogue, i'm just uploading in moderation.
> 
> my second fic is another AU - with postsoldier bucky and preserum steve as college kids. very cliche i know.
> 
> thank you for your kudos and comments! x


	17. Chapter 17

Steve didn't have his laptop, so he couldn't work. Or do anything. 

And so he spent the hours on his piano bench, taking out his frustration by playing loud, jarring songs, and then as his anger fizzled out, his playing became quiet. He wasn't that angry at Bucky any longer, but he'd been robbed of his chance to come out to everyone properly and ask for their acceptance. And Bucky had completely forgotten that Steve was still in the closet. Not that he cared, Bucky hadn't even apologized.

He checked his phone.

_12 missed calls from: Nat_

_8 unread text messages from: Nat_

_20 missed calls from: Bucky_

_5 unread text messages from: Bucky_

_1 unread text message from: Wanda_

_4 missed calls from: Sam_

_3 missed calls from: Tony_

Steve opened the one from Wanda, praying that she was going to be the least offensive or questioning one of the lot. He was right.

_Just checking to see if you got home alright, Steve._

_Yes I did,_ Steve replied, then he turned off his phone when the message was sent, read, and Natasha started to call him again, then Thor, then Tony, then Bruce, then Sam, then Clint.

Frustrated, he sat down on his sofa and rubbed his palm across his forehead, frustrated and mostly tired of everything. Was he overreacting? Was he being too dramatic? Was Bucky going to dump him? Was he going to break up with Bucky?

-

Steve was awoken by the sound of two hard knocks on his door, and he jerked up from his fetal position on the couch, rubbing his eyes blearily and shoving on his glasses. The knocking persisted, but there was no voice. Figuring that it was probably Natasha to come over and give him thirty thousand bear hugs, he pulled open the door while pulling hair out of his mouth and rubbing his eyes again.

Bucky stood over the threshold, holding his laptop bag and his folders, and behind him Natasha was holding a few boxes of pizza, a weird stain on her white shirt. Kat was sniffing his welcome mat excitedly (there were teeth marks all over it) and came over to nuzzle him.

He stood there, rubbing Kat's head, unsure of how to respond. 

“Hey, Steeby, can we have dinner? No. I mean let's have dinner." Natasha shoved Bucky aside, and held out the pizza boxes, smiling brightly at him, though she was obviously scanning him. It was a peace offering from her, and Steve was grateful that she'd bothered to come over and try to cheer him up. Sort of. 

He nodded mutely, and she walked in confidently, red hair whipping behind her, Kat nipping joyfully at her heels and pausing to lick Steve’s hand one more time.

Steve turned to Bucky, his chest aching when he saw how downcast Bucky looked. (Mostly like a scolded puppy, but it hurt him all the same) "I brought your things." He mumbled, holding out the bag and the folder without meeting Steve's gaze. Steve took them silently, wondering if Bucky knew that he was still welcome to come into his house.

Apparently not.

Bucky pulled out a single red rose from behind his back and held it out, his hands shaking, his eyes still trained to the ground as he murmured an apology, his voice scratchy and hoarse. Steve took the rose and smiled, not that Bucky noticed. The poor guy was still looking adorably like a kicked puppy. "'S okay." He said quietly, reaching out to cup Bucky’s cheek in his palm, his chest contracting when he saw how upset Bucky was with himself. His eyes seemed bloodshot, and Steve wondered if the stain on Natasha's shirt was because Bucky was crying. The brunet seemed to shrink into himself and their gazes met for a few seconds as Bucky very gently pressed his lips to Steve's cheek in the most gentle of kisses and before Steve could say invite him in or kiss him back, Bucky turned around and fled.

Oh.

Well then.

-

Sam didn't make any reference to the happenings of the previous day when they ran together the next morning, choosing instead to talk about the new movie he'd watched, and Steve was extremely grateful. He didn't want to live with the awkwardness that he'd created; neither did he want his friends to look at him any differently.

Moreover he had plans with Bucky tonight, a lovely dinner of sorts, and Bucky didn't mention anything about cancelling or affirming that they were meeting at the park for dinner at the bistro.

Steve wondered if Bucky still was beating himself up over it.

Steve wondered if Bucky was thinking about him.

Steve wondered if Bucky 

Steve wondered

 

-

Natasha seemed to have put everyone under a death threat by dismembering or tear gas because everyone seemed to be on ever nicer terms with him - Tony even brought him a squashed blueberry muffin (he'd eaten half of it). But his boyfriend seemed distant, still saying good morning and passing him a cup of coffee, without so much as making eye contact. When he had walked towards Bucky, he'd caught the glance of fear in his eyes, so potent until Steve turned to the coffee machine just so that he didn't have to speak with Bucky and make the brunet more uncomfortable than he already was.

He mulled over how he could talk things out with Bucky as he walked to the park later in the evening, clad in a thin sweater and his work pants.

Bucky was seated under a tree, hair hanging messily beside his face, his back leaning against the trunk, a large duffel bag leaning against his side and there was a sketchbook on his lap. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he drew something from his phone, and his tongue was between his teeth. Steve admired his side profile from afar and walked over only after he'd snapped a picture. he looked more relaxed than he had been at work.

He’d shaved.

Steve wanted to eat his face.

"Hey Bucky," Steve said mildly, standing beside his boyfriend, and Bucky flipped the sketchbook over so fast that a line of red appeared on his index finger. He sat down beside the brunet and picked up the fallen sketchbook and placed it gently in Bucky's lap without looking at the drawing Bucky was working on. Bucky didn't say anything.

There was a beat of silence.

And then Bucky very tentatively leaned onto Steve's side, his head resting on Steve's shoulder as he hugged the sketchbook to his chest, shifting slightly until he was comfortable. Steve exhaled at the contact and absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against the sleeve of Bucky’s jacket, drawing him closer so that he could smell Bucky’s cinnamon -

Bucky sat up straight and tied his hair. He looked exhausted up close, and unusually haggard. And when he opened his mouth to apologize, Steve realized he didn't want to hear it. He'd come out, albeit not when he was ready, and there was nothing he could do about it. He'd missed saying goodnight to Bucky over the phone, and he realized with a jolt, that he could feel acutely how badly Bucky was hurting, and he didn't want to put Bucky through everything by remaining angry. Bucky punishing himself was bad enough. Steve didn't need to add any more salt into the wound.

"It's okay." He said, and he smiled to show that he wasn't upset at all. And for the first time in twenty four hours Bucky met his gaze, his soft hazel eyes lighting up the way they always did.

"I thought we were over," Bucky admitted, smiling sheepishly as he pulled the duffel bag onto his lap and started removing wrapped sandwiches and bottles of fruit juice and packages of cookies and a box of melted chocolate and some cut strawberries. "I’m not very good at being a boyfriend." he continued, embarrassed as Steve gaped at the spread before him as Bucky put a Tupperware of Caesar salad on his lap with a hesitant "I thought we could have a picnic instead".

And then Steve was reaching over the ridiculous amount of food and pulling Bucky into a bear hug, burying his face into the crook of Bucky's neck, inhaling the smell of his cologne and closing his eyes when he felt Bucky pull him closer.

"I would like to eat your face," Bucky began, a valiant attempt to be funny, "But I did bring a lot of food and I'd prefer it if we ate that instead."

And Steve saw Bucky crack a smile over his box of pasta, and his heart ached.

-

They settled down to watch The Notebook after dinner. Or rather, Steve did. Bucky had grown bored after the first forty minutes and was taking the opportunity to run his nose along the length of Steve's jaw, occasionally pressing his lips to the back of Steve's ear while Steve shoved him away halfheartedly and tried to not allow Bucky to know how much he wanted Bucky to -

"Go away."

The brunet snorted. "Judging by erection I’m seeing now I'm guessing not."

Steve crossed his legs without looking down as Bucky easily moved his knees apart climbed onto his lap and wrapped both arms around his waist and began cover every inch of his face with butterfly kisses.

"Bucky," Steve tried, and failed, to maintain his breathing.

Damn Bucky and his superior make out skills.

Steve hated -

_Wait_.

"You know." Bucky began, sucking on Steve's neck and then running his tongue over the fresh bruise he'd made. "Many people would enjoy me straddling their lap and giving them hickeys."

“Well not me. Get off," Steve attempted to be stern, but was sabotaged by the breathy moan that escaped his throat and the hand that pulled Bucky closer and his automatic head tilt to allow Bucky better access. He could hear the brunet snickering from where he was kissing up Steve’s jaw.

_Damn Bucky and his superior make out skills._

Bucky pulled away and noted the state Steve was in, smiling devilishly when Steve whimpered at the loss of contact.

"I thought you didn't want me to make out with your neck."

Steve turned very red as he muttered some highly unoriginal ‘fuck you’s and Bucky laughed again before burrowing into Steve's side and burying his face into Steve's neck and intertwining their hands.

"You can make out with my neck any time, Buck." Steve whispered.

"Damn right I will, Rogers. "

-

When the ending credits rolled, Steve switched off the TV and turned to ask Bucky if he'd enjoyed the film (or whatever little he'd watched), only to find him curled up like a cat leaning on Steve's side, fast asleep, snoring softly. Steve only had one other occasion during which he had the privilege to observe Bucky sleep (and  _that_  had gone south), so he shifted, letting Bucky's head rest on his lap as he stroked Bucky's hair for a moment.

Then he called Natasha.

"What," She snarled as a greeting, panting slightly, "Is so important that you have to call me at twelve in the morning?"

Steve cringed internally. He’d established a rule with Natasha, that any calls after11:30would not go unanswered. Anything else was text message only. And he had completely forgotten. Calling was for life and death only. Or Sephora sales. 

"Steeby, if you're going to waste my time i suggest you do it another day because I'm on top right now and i thought you were in a life and death situation."

Ooh,  _shit_.

And then when Steve stuttered an apology, trying to erase the mental picture of his childhood best friend out of his mind, Clint’s voice came over the phone, his breaths uneven and his voice hoarse, "Stop being a cockblock, Steve."

_Ouch_.

-

Steve had actually planned to ask Natasha if he should just let Bucky stay over (something they'd both agreed they wouldn't do until the time was right) or if he should wake Bucky up and ask him to leave.

Glancing at his boyfriend curling into a fetal position on the sofa, Steve sighed before scooping him up and carrying Bucky to his bed and after removing his belt and socks, tucked him in and slid his bolster between Bucky's arms and legs and picking up one of his pillows, his spare blanket and tried to make himself comfortable on the sofa. The leather couch seemed a lot less comfortable when there was not Bucky to lie on top of and a lot colder when the usually comforting presence of body heat had migrated to his room. Steve tossed and turned for a solid fifteen minutes, wishing the air conditioning in his living room was as freezing as the one in his bedroom, and removing his tank top in frustration.

Because the sofa was a shitty bed, and he was a usually light sleeper, Steve woke up before he opened his eyes, his skin prickling as he heard Bucky's tormented wails echoing from the bedroom, punctuated by loud gasps that made Steve’s blood run cold. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the sound of Bucky's pleading and desperate whimpers as he battled his nightmare. Steve had read up online that waking someone up from a nightmare was a lot more disastrous than the person waking up on their own, so he persisted for pressing his couch pillows to his ear as hard as he could, willing himself to forget how agonized Bucky sounded and what happened that left Bucky in such a state.

It didn't work.

The screams stopped as suddenly as they started, and before long there was the sound of footsteps as Bucky emerged in the living room, tear tracks glittering on his cheeks and his hair in a mess. they gazed at each other from across the living room, Bucky looking contrite and Steve worried. There was no sound except that of muffled footsteps as Bucky padded over to the couch and Steve lifted the blanket so he could crawl into the cocoon Steve had made for himself.

The fabric of Bucky's shirt was warm against Steve's bare chest, and as Bucky hiccupped quietly in front of Steve, he rested an arm on Bucky's waist, shifted the blanket, wrapped his leg around both of Bucky's, and pulled his boyfriend closer to him.

"I'm sorry for waking you up." Bucky whispered.

A pause.

"And for sleeping in your bed."

Another pause.

"And for making you sleep on the couch."

Another pause.

"And for stealing your couch space."

Steve laughed, burrowing his face deeper into Bucky's hair as he tightened his grip on Bucky's waist, timing his breaths with Bucky’s. Slowly his eyes fluttered shut, and Bucky's laboured breaths evened out, and the rising of Steve's chest became rhythmic, and Bucky slept fitfully in Steve's arms and for the first time in a long while, Bucky didn't have another nightmare.

-

Steve was lying on something solid.

That was rising up and down.

And something was pressing against the small of his back.

His eyes snapped open and he relaxed when he realized that he was lying comfortably on top of Bucky, his face buried (like he always did) in Bucky's neck and his right palm resting on Bucky's cheek.

Steve began to extract himself from Bucky's body, whining quietly at the lack of warmth when he managed to stand up and wishing that he could have stayed asleep for a little bit more, wanting to nestle in Bucky’s embrace for the next fifteen thousand years. He tucked the blanket around Bucky and after texting Sam that they wouldn't be exercising today, quietly snuck to the bathroom to brush his teeth, shower and change, all the while smiling at the seven hours of solid sleep he'd gotten.

Rare.

"Good morning," Steve smiled pleasantly at the brunet when he finally woke up. Bucky had changed into one of Steve’s slacks and was holding one of his dress shirts in one hand, and Steve couldn't help noticing how much better Bucky looked wearing his clothes than how he normally did wearing his own clothes.

Bucky probably looked best with no clothes.

Not that he'd tell anyone.

Bucky saw him staring and mumbled drowsily, "'M sorry, didn't bring over any clothes. 'M pay for the dry cleaning." And Steve allowed his gaze to rake over Bucky's banging body with his unfairly defined biceps and his washboard abs a pointed stop at his waistline before setting a plate of French toast on a table with a faux reluctant ‘…oh I guess’.

He'd just slid a mug of coffee over (Bucky put on his shirt. Damn.) and was ready to start eating when Natasha sailed into the house, flinging the set of keys he'd given her onto the coffee table and shouting his name at the top of her lungs, far too chipper for someone who was not a morning person. her hair was in a neat bun, and she was wearing red eyeliner.

"IS THAT FRENCH TOAST I SMELL, STEEBY? I'M SO GLAD YOU REMEMBERED I WAS COMING OVER TO HAVE BREAK-" Natasha stopped in her tracks at the sight of Bucky drinking from the mug Steve always lent her and eating a massive stack of French toast, smiling at the redhead like a toddler on Christmas day.

Steve blushed. Admittedly, Bucky's presence had made him forget that Natasha would be paying a visit. The redhead stuck her tongue out and then raised her middle fingers at Steve before sitting down beside Bucky and taking a swig of coffee directly from the coffee pot, leaving a stain of pale pink lipstick at the rim.

"Why're you here?" she asked bluntly, shoving a piece of French toast into her mouth as Steve wiped the lipstick stain off the coffeepot rim with a napkin.

Bucky rolled his eyes and didn't answer.

Steve followed suit.

"There's a reason why you're one, wearing Steve's clothes, two, smelling like Steve's body wash, three, in someone's house other than your own, and four, sporting a hickey on your neck, Barnes." She prodded, poking him in the forearm with a knowing smirk, making suggestive noises and wiggling her eyebrows.

Steve glanced at the purple bruise just below the angle of Bucky's jaw and flushed a nice crimson, just as Natasha turned her attention to the weaker prey, her smirk transforming into a wicked grin.

"Spill."

Steve cracked.

"He fell asleep during the movie and I didn't want to wake him up."

Natasha looked scandalized before she rounded on Bucky, who was smiling crookedly at Steve across the table, making the blond turn even redder at the attention he was getting. "You cheated on me with your boyfriend? You actually said you were tired when I asked you to come over for dinner because you kept moping. And then you come here to make out with your boyfriend? That’s really -"

There was no logic in this. “Of course I made out with Steve." Bucky said, with the martyred expression of a school teacher who had to keep up with the endless barrage of questions from excitable seven year old children. He looked bored, despite the fact that one hand was currently tracing circles on Steve’s thigh underneath the table.

Steve choked on a piece of honeydew at Bucky's blatant admission and he braced himself for the question that Natasha was going to ask in five...four...three...two...

"Is Steve any good at kissing?"

Bingo.

Bucky glanced up from his coffee, delighting in Steve's obvious discomfort and smiling playfully before returning his attention to an expectant Natasha.

"Yes he is," Bucky began loyally, but the devilish gleam in his eyes made Steve wait with bated breath at the second part of his answer.

He wasn't disappointed.

"But Clint is a better kisser than Steve is."

Next to him, Natasha swore in approximately three hundred languages.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS SO MY ONE ASSHOLE OF A BETA WAS COMPLAINING ABOUT HOW THE TENSION GOT RESOLVED SO FAST BUT THE JOKE'S ON HER BECAUSE I THINK I AM VERY GOOD AT ANGST AND IT IS COMING SERVED RED HOT FROM THE DEEPEST RECESSES OF MY ANGST FILLED HEART. SO SUCK ON THAT, JUN.
> 
> also i'm almost at my dream goal of 2000 hits! THANK YOU for all your lovely comments and the support i have received :-)
> 
> xx


	18. Chapter 18

As the Thanksgiving weekend drew near, Steve often found himself shivering in anticipation of seeing his family again. He had big plans - buying and stuffing a turkey, baking them a whole raspberry cheesecake, and introducing them to Bucky.

He'd taken to inviting Natasha over almost every night when the redhead had noticed Steve’s state of helplessness, determined to learn how to achieve the softest texture for his mashed potatoes, how to make his salads less soggy and how to bake a traditional Thanksgiving fruitcake (he brought the failed attempt to work and only Bucky was nice enough not to gag. Tony and Sam spat their mouthfuls on the floor. Wanda was nicer. She spat hers into a tissue).

He was extremely preoccupied, spending every free moment he had researching on recipes and baking tips and different ingredients and types of sauces and tomatoes and butter, determined to make this feast a brilliant one for the few most important people in his life. He had never hosted a thanksgiving dinner on his own, and he finally understood why his mother had lost her temper at his siblings and him when they were stealing whipped cream from the kitchen or sticking their hands into the mashed potato.

Bucky sidled up to him in the evening, as he sat on the floor of Bucky's art studio in his carefully orchestrated pose and studied a recipe for cranberry sauce. He had been the model for something Bucky was painting, and glanced up with a smile when Bucky slid an arm around his shoulder.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go have dinner together on Thanksgiving, sweetheart. Just the two of us," Bucky said casually as Steve compared recipes for mango sorbet and blueberry tarts. Steve's head jerked up in surprise, completely ignoring the nickname. He'd been planning dinner on Thanksgiving for weeks and weeks, and everyone in the office knew that he was going to introduce Bucky to his family for the first time ever, and Bucky had forgotten that he already had plans to introduce him to the family?

He gaped at Bucky in confusion. “What?" He spluttered, slightly angry that Bucky had forgotten about dinner when Steve had been talking about it nonstop for ages, baked tarts and cakes every day and was actually comparing  _recipes_ as Bucky spoke.

Bucky repeated his request, but his gaze had travelled to his knees, which were clad in paint splattered pants, his hands twirling a slim paintbrush stained gold.

"I thought you were going to come over," Steve began in a small voice, his cheeks turning pink, "I was going to introduce you to my family." How stupid of Steve to assume that Bucky would want to meet his family! The poor guy was probably uncomfortable in the face of possible homophobia, and Steve was not even aware! (Not that he'd double checked with Bucky. Steve had forgotten to update his boyfriend. Shit.) 

“I was?" Bucky asked, his face lighting up like a five year old at Disneyland. Steve shoved him away and looked incredulously at his boyfriend, eyes widening in surprise. "Of course, Bucky. I'm going to introduce you to my parents, and that’s why I'm not going to Brooklyn this year."

Bucky turned away, and the smallest of blushes spread across his cheeks.

When he spoke, his voice was a whisper, so soft that Steve could barely hear it.

"You didn't invite me."

Steve spluttered indignantly, but one look at Bucky’s face gave him the confirmation he needed.

"I didn't?"

"Yeah, you didn't. You spent weeks talking about cakes and turkey and cream and salad and butter and seasoning and your family to me, but you never said I was invited. You just mentioned coming out."

Bucky looked so insecure of himself that Steve's ready heart broke. He yanked Bucky over by the ankles so that he could hug Bucky tightly. "Of course you're invited," He said, his voice muffled the fabric of Bucky's shirt as he mashed his face into Bucky’s chest. 

"Really?"

"Really."

And then Bucky smiled his brilliant heartwarming smile, the smile that he rarely ever used, and only reserved for Steve, and Steve thought, come Thanksgiving, he would be ready to show Bucky off like he was the brightest star in the sky, the most exquisite sunset, the most glorious sunrise, the most beautiful person Steve had ever laid eyes on.

Because Bucky  _was_.

-

The minute he opened the door, there was a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, another around his middle, and two more around his shoulders. Behind the crowd of people screaming at the top of their lungs, he could see his father and mother, both smiling and queuing up to embrace him. They all hugged each other at the corridor for an embarrassingly long period of time until Steve remembered that he had a house and everyone filed in, talking a mile per minute and helping themselves to the drinks, his brothers sitting on his couch with their feet on the coffee table just like they always did as children.

His house had never been so chaotic and noisy, and as his siblings stole into the kitchen to ‘taste’ his half prepared dinner, Steve felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction.

He'd nonchalantly informed everyone that his  _friend_  was going to come over because his parents didn't celebrate Thanksgiving, but when his parents had nodded politely, he felt more and more jittery at the thought of introducing them to Bucky.

His siblings knew. He had given them a pre-empt just to make sure there would be less casualties in case there was an unusually violent reaction.

He hoped not.

-

Bucky rang the doorbell at seven fifteen sharp, and Steve bounded over to answer it.

He expected Bucky to be standing there with his signature smirk wearing the sinful leather jacket Steve loved and -

Bucky was  _crying._

_On the floor._

Steve let the door close behind him as he scooped the distressed brunet into his arms and fumbled for the packet of pills in his pocket. Bucky had given him a packet a few months ago, and made Steve swear up and down that he wouldn't tell anyone. The brunet had been so quiet after that happened. He placed the medicine on Bucky's bottom lip and Bucky swallowed it dry, his palms bleeding as his fingernails dug into his palms and his forehead and upper lip beaded with sweat. He rocked Bucky back and forth for a while, pressing kisses to Bucky's temple until the medication took effect and Bucky's breathing and heart rate became stable.

"Ready to go in?" Steve asked as Bucky leaned forwards and allowed Steve to tie his hair. (Steve spent three hours practicing a French braid on Natasha before he did it on Bucky. Bucky had been so proud. Natasha made him buy her a new bottle of conditioner.  And hair oil. And hair serum.)

"Five minutes, sweet pea."

"Sweet pea?" Steve asked, wrinkling his nose. He'd rejected every single one of Bucky's pet names, finding that they made him cringe.

Bucky swiped at the tear tracks on his face and stood up, his face slightly pink, his eyes slightly bigger than normal. Steve wanted to make out with him. "No sweet pea?"

"No sweet pea."

"Okay, sweet pea." Bucky smirked halfheartedly, pushing open the door and walking confidently into Steve's apartment with the blond tailing behind, smiling like an idiot.

Bucky removed his jacket and shoes at the hallway like he always did, and Steve crept up from behind and poked him in the ribs.

Perhaps he was unusually nervous, for Bucky jumped and pinned Steve to the wall, one arm holding Steve's wrists up, the other running up and down Steve's side.

Bucky's eyes glinted in the darkness, almost predatory, and Steve shivered. Bucky seemed to have developed a knack for murmuring completely indecent things into Steve's ear and making the most dirty sexual innuendos (he had done that on one movie night with everyone at Wanda’s house, and another time at dinner with everyone at Sam’s), not that Steve objected, but his  _parents were in the next room_. Bucky only stopped when Steve's whimpers became too loud for discretion, and his erection was becoming difficult to hide.

"We can finish this later," Bucky said, winking as Steve tried to compose himself, staring at the wall opposite him and trying to count down from twenty and name every country in the world.

-

"This is my friend, Bucky." Steve began as his siblings draped themselves over every available space, forming a wall of intimidation they were so good at.

 _Be nice,_ Steve mouthed as his siblings stared Bucky down, wondering if he was exactly as amazing Steve said he was. Bucky on the other hand was smiling politely, his face a mask of open courtesy, as though he hadn't been talking about ramming into Steve or fucking him so hard Steve wouldn't be able to walk for a week a mere minute ago.

"Bucky this is my brother, Jace. He's a naval officer." Steve began, gesturing at the blond sitting on his father's lap (his feet propped up on the coffee table. Jace smiled warily, still seizing Bucky up as though ready to fight him. Knowing Jace, he was always ready to fight. Always. He’d beaten Natasha once before the redhead started practicing daily for three hours, after which nine year old Nat managed to break Jace's nose. Steve had sat beside her when his parents had told her sternly that she was no longer allowed to fight anyone.)

"And uh, this is Izzy. She's a forensic pathologist." Steve said, gesturing to his dark haired sister, who grinned at Bucky, showing off her perfect line of pearly whites. Her eyeliner was sharper than the knife Steve had prepared to cut the turkey.

"This is my other brother Alec, he's an army commander." Steve said pointing to his raven haired brother, icy blue eyes flashing in caution as he seized Bucky up.

"And my sister, Clary. She's the artist." Steve smiled when the redhead beamed. She was easily the most outgoing out of all of them so far, and beside him, Bucky relaxed marginally.

"Last, and youngest, my brother, Max. He's nine." Steve smiled fondly at his youngest brother who came forward to envelop Bucky in a hug.

He went through the same process with his parents, allowing them to make the most mundane and boring small talk until the turkey was ready. He led the way into the kitchen, hands shaking slightly and Izzy gently squeezed his hand in a show of encouragement. 

Steve was so focused on planning what to say that he'd accidentally poured wine on his food instead of the Tabasco sauce, much to Bucky’s amusement. It also didn't help that Bucky was continually running a leg up and down Steve’s calf during the entire course of dinner. Or that all his siblings were sneaking him looks.

"Steve, honey, are you alright? You seem very flustered." His mother's voice was all concern and worry. Looking up, Steve saw Jace nod at him encouragingly and Bucky was chewing his lip and wringing his hands with unusual ferocity.

"Did you get a girl pregnant?" his father's voice added in, and he could see every one of his sibling tense up. Excluding Max.

"N-no," Steve said, his hands shaking so badly that he could barely scoop up his food.

Steve was squeezing his knee so tightly under the table he was going to get bruises.

"I'm seeing someone," Steve blurted finally before he could chicken out, and his parents stopped chewing completely.

Then before he could ask his parents to say something, his mother burst out laughing. "Are you serious? Honey, I thought you were going to tell us you murdered someone. That's great honey, when do we get to meet her? Or him? What's their name? Why were you so scared? You aren't Izzy bringing home boys at age fourteen. "

Steve felt tension rush out of his chest. His mother didn't mind if he was gay, she seemed happy he was seeing someone. At this rate, Steve wouldn't need to puke up his dinner.

His father cocked his head to the side as he stared Steve. The table was suddenly very quiet again. Steve glanced at Alec for emotional support.

 _Go for it,_ his brother mouthed.

Steve crushed a napkin in his fist, took a deep breath and watched as his parents exchanged nervous looks.

" _His_ name is Bucky and you've already met him."

There was a deafening silence.

Both his sisters looked like they were ready for physical restraining.

Bucky was as white as a sheet.

His mother burst into laughter. "Robert, you owe me fifty dollars. Steve, honey, I'm so proud of you."

His father slapped a crisp bill into his mother's hand as he rolled his eyes at Steve.

Steve glanced between his mother, who had begun eating again, and his father, who actually reached over to muss up his hair and beam at him. His siblings, convinced that there was going to be no violence, started eating again.

Bucky's relief was all too obvious on his face.

"Steve, son, are you going to keep gaping at us? You came out, you have a boyfriend who looks like an Adonis, you're gay. Your mother saw you making out with Bucky in the hallway. We know, can you eat your food before it gets cold?" Steve's father asked, mock impatience on full display. "You're not mad?" Steve asked, smiling proudly at Bucky. "Did you expect us to?" His mother asked calmly, topping up his wine.

"I did," Bucky admitted.

"Well I bet Steve's dad fifty dollars because I was so sure Steve was gay for you. I'm hardly fuming and threatening to kick my son out of the house right?"

Bucky smiled his light up your world smile, and Steve promptly melted.

-

"Bye, Steve, honey." Mrs Rogers kissed Steve's forehead pulled him into a tight hug. Then she turned to Bucky, her expression suddenly morphing into a glare that made Steve worried. "If you break Steve's heart, I will make sure I break your neck, after my husband is done with your arms and legs." She threatened. Bucky nodded seriously, before he was pulled into a bone crushing hug and was pecked on his cheek. Steve smiled at the ceiling.

The silence at their wake was uncomfortably obvious as Steve turned around to face Bucky, ready to apologize for the barrage of questions and jokes his family had made over the course of dinner, only to find the brunet flashing him a megawatt smile.

“I'm so glad I came over." He said, reaching over and tilting Steve’s chin up in a slow, lingering kiss that made Steve's heart beat erratically. The blond wound his hands in the brunet's hair as he worked on giving Steve a hickey on the side of his jaw. Bucky's knee was between Steve's legs, moving continuously, and Steve bit back a moan at the friction building up between his jeans. Bucky was going to be the death of him. His breathing was becoming uneven as he fisted the material of Bucky's shirt, wanting  _more_ , wanting  _this_ , wanting  _Bucky_. There was the sensual grind of hips that replaced the knee, and Steve was surprised by the guttural moan that escaped from the back of his throat as he thrust his hips forward, pleading for more.  _Steve_ wanted to  _have_ _sex_ with  _Bucky_.

Bucky pulled away, his pupils dilated and his breathing shallow.

"Are you sure about this, Steve?"

Steve gazed into his boyfriend's hazel eyes and he'd never felt so sure of anything else in his whole life. He’d always brought things to a screeching halt every occasion Bucky asked this question. His self consciousness and insecurities had plagued his mind for weeks on end. But now he was a hundred percent sure: This was what he wanted. This was who he wanted. He was so sure. And he allowed himself to be dragged to his bedroom, pausing only six times for some heated making out and very intensive grinding on the sofa that awakened every nerve that Steve possessed. Bucky had been so understanding of Steve's inhibitions, and Steve knew that if he could choose someone to give his virginity to, it would be Bucky Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI FAM
> 
> updates may be a little slower nowadays because im working long shifts and im usually too tired to email my beta. so sorry!!
> 
> thank you all for your support, as well as helping me hit my goal of 2000 hits!!!!
> 
> x


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this is explicit smut.  
> if you are uncomfortable with reading graphic content, feel free to skip this chapter entirely. it will not in any way screw up the plot. just know that bucky and steve finally had sex. that's it.
> 
> FOR THE REST OF YOU, ALL I CAN SAY IS
> 
> ',;-)

There was a crash as Bucky knocked over a folder of sheet music balanced on the coffee table and Steve giggled, too giddy to form a coherent thought. There was a sudden coldness of air hitting his back as Bucky yanked his shirt off so hard that it'd probably been ripped. And then the unexpected pain of Bucky's fingernails digging into the material of his pants as he carried Steve into the bedroom, his mouth still nipping and biting and sucking like a professional, Steve clinging desperately onto Bucky.

Steve arched into the touch and cracked an eye open in the midst of some intense grinding to ensure that Bucky had not broken his door with the tremendous slam that had followed in the wake of their clumsy entry into the room.

He was blissfully un-self conscious until Bucky pulled away and his hand movement changed to a feather like touch as he ran a finger down the hard muscles on Steve's chest, his eyes becoming even more hooded and dilated as he took in the solid abs Steve had worked so hard on, before licking his lips at the v line that disappeared down the waistline of his jeans and the extremely prominent bulge just south of his belly button.

Steve curled up instinctively, uncomfortable at the attention he was getting and burying his face into his hands. Bucky pried his hands away, featured contorted with concern. " We don't have to do this. " He said, brushing a lock of Steve's hair out of his eyes. Steve took a deep breath, but Bucky barrelled on, apparently horrified under the assumption that he'd forced Steve into this. " I mean, we can do it whenever you are ready, we don't have to do it now. Okay? Your pace. Whenever you're ready. "

Bucky's mortified embarrassment brought out a smile in Steve as he leaned back down and tugged Bucky's shirt over his head. " I want to have sex with you, Bucky. " Steve stammered, feeling notoriously inexperienced when Bucky burst out laughing, his sweaty hair sticking to the sides of his cheek.

" You're so direct, baby, I love it. " He managed between gasps of laughter as he rubbed his cheek against Steve's chest. He'd also conveniently forgotten to shave for the past two days because Natasha had complained about how Steve. Never. Shut. Up. About. Bucky's. Stubble. Steve bet it would feel wonderful between his legs. He bet his life.

And then Steve turned his head so that he could look at Bucky, and the world tilted on a different axis. Bucky's face was tinged pink, his pupils were dilated as heck, his hair was in a gorgeous mess, his stubble was just the was just the way Steve loved it and his chest was like sculpted marble, all lines and hard muscle and defined pecs and that v line was enough to give Steve an orgasm.

And Steve, spurred by a sense of newfound confidence, reached up to unbuckle Bucky's belt and arched his hips when a pair of hands fumbled at the waistline of his jeans. One of Bucky's hands accidentally brushed against his erection and Steve groaned in pleasure, thrusting his hips forward.

" Someone's eager, " Bucky drawled smugly, drawing a line down the bulge in Steve's boxers with the very tips of his fingers as the blond struggled for contact, his breaths uneven. Steve was almost painfully hard. And Bucky was. being. a. fucking. tease.

" Stop teasing, jerk, and fuck me hard already, " Steve complained as Bucky moved away for a second only to press back down in an excruciatingly slow pace.

Bucky stood up very slowly and began to strip, not breaking eye contact with Steve as he peeled of his clothes languidly.

And then he climbed onto the bed close to Steve and whispered in his ear, his voice a low growl, " I'm going to fuck you as hard as I want, as long as I want. And you can't come until I say so. "

Steve's erection grew even harder as the words sent tingles travelling down his spine. Bucky going all dominant on him was incredibly arousing. He could probably come from Bucky's dirty talk only. He almost did, once. 

" _Please_ just fuck me now, Bucky. "

Christ, his voice had never sounded so needy and desperate and husky in all his life.

Bucky traced a finger down the side of Steve's cheek. " Ah, it's not going to be this easy. I'm planning on ramming into you over every single fuckable surface in your apartment. There's not going to be a single spot left which doesn't remind you of us doing the nasty. And you won't even be able to form a coherent thought without feeling my dick buried all the way up in your beautiful hole, Steve. "

And then the brunet brought one of his thumbs to his mouth and licked it, a slow, sensual act that made Steve groan with want. He leaned forward, head spinning with desperation but Bucky shoved him roughly back against the headboard. " Do. Not. Move. "

Steve was dead. The voice was low and gravelly and it made Steve's dick twitch. He needed to come, and fast. He'd never been so turned on in his whole life. He didn't even know he could be this turned on in his life.

Bucky seemed to read his mind. " If you orgasm I swear i will stop everything. " And then when Steve uttered a mild broken cry, Bucky brought his hand back to Steve's hips, kissed his sweaty forehead, and the other hand pulled his cheeks apart so that the wet, thick thumb could penetrate him. Steve's body crumpled and allowed Bucky's finger entrance, a huge wave of pleasure crashing through his body. His body swayed, and he was extremely close to dropping to his knees and begging Bucky to start fucking him into next week.

The brunet's sinful mouth travelled from his temple to his cheekbone to his lips to his throat, testing Steve's self control with an occasional wet lick. All this time his thumb moved continually inside Steve, teasing him to the brink of collapse, and then slowing down enough for him to rein himself in.

Bucky shoved Steve against the door of his closet, he was paying attention to the muscles on Steve's chest, and Steve secretly thanked his lucky stars that Bucky had left his nipples alone. But the sensations were building up like a volcanic eruption, and Steve was going to come and -

" Open your eyes. "

Shit.

Bucky was on his knees, a thumb running slowly across his slit. Bucky was going to murder Steve. He was extremely damn sure that there would be totally zero way for him to refrain from having an orgasm if Bucky sucked him off. No way. Steve was screwed. He was done for. And then there was a sweep of Bucky's tongue, swirling around him like he was licking a popsicle, with just the smallest of flicks at the top to swallow the precum that was leaking like a faucet.

" Bucky, please - "

Steve's voice had never sound so ragged, so wanton, and it scared him when he realized how vulnerable he was in front of Bucky.

Bucky's skilled tongue made another long stroke and Steve thrusted forward involuntarily. He tried to recite the alphabet from back to front, name as many countries as he could, anything to get his mind off the warmth from Bucky's mouth. His back was arching off the closet. His knees were shaking. His toes were curling. Stars blinded his vision he was going to -

Bucky's mouth was replaced by cold air, and Steve screamed in frustration, head hitting his closet door, only to see the brunet smirking at him.

" Where would you like me to fuck you? "

Steve was panting so hard he could only mumble an unintelligible answer.

Bucky pressed a kiss to Steve's bitten lips and raised an eyebrow. Steve didn't care. He just wanted to cum and he wanted it now. Bucky could ram into Steve on the washing machine, the piano, the coffee table, his window sill or his toilet bowl it didn't really matter.

" No preference? I'll just do the choosing then. " Bucky said, carrying Steve easily and lowering him onto the carpet outside his room. Steve was so fucked. He was never going to be able to walk on the carpet without remembering how painfully hard he was, or how sexy Bucky looked at this moment.

Bucky stretched out languidly on him, arms reaching over his head and hands digging into Steve's sides, working a second, then a third finger inside the blond. He licked Steve's jaw before murmuring, " I'm going to fuck you so hard you can't remember your own name. "

Thank goodness. Steve had been waiting for this the whole time.

" Are you clean? "

Steve took a few minutes to understand the question, and nodded.

Bucky leaned away and stroked himself, lubricating it with a package of lube that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Was Bucky going to orgasm _inside_ Steve? Was it actually going to _feel_ good? And then Bucky was palming his ass and in one quick thrust, had entered Steve, no time for him to adjust or give his muscles some time to stretch.

Holy shit. Steve was now no longer a virgin.

Bucky paused for ten agonizing seconds, relishing in Steve's broken pleas for him to start thrusting and stop being such a damn tease, before rocking in deep thrusts that made Steve's back curve and made him ache for more, faster, harder, please Bucky, harder, _please, auh,_ Bucky, please, mhm, harder, please, harder.

Fire was coursing through his veins, and Steve wondered vaguely amidst he sensations coursing through his body how he'd manage to survive so long without having sex. His muscles spasmed wildly, his back was arching upwards, and Bucky continued to ram into Steve mercilessly, making him struggle for air every single time Bucky's balls slapped against his ass.

Bucky leaned down, his pupils blown and opened his mouth. " Do you want to know how good your ass feels wrapped around my dick, Steve? Do you want me to write you an essay on exactly how tight you feel, Mr Rogers? "

Steve groaned in pleasure, his mind too giddy to do anything except want more.

" Are you ready, Mr Rogers? " Bucky smirked, pulling out all the way and slamming right back into Steve with such force that Steve was sure that Bucky's dick was going to reach his teeth. And then Bucky's thrusts started hitting this spot that sent Steve into an erection impossibly harder, making him let out a loud, broken whimper when Bucky began to moan uncontrollably, hissing in pleasure whenever Steve raked his nails down Bucky's back and thrust his hips upwards as hard as he could. This felt too good, too good, too good, too good, and Steve was about to... he had to...

" I need to - " He gasped as shudders shook his body.

And then Bucky, that _bastard_ , pulled out and helped him up.

" I'm going to fuck you on every surface. We've done the carpet. Now we're going to fuck on the piano. "

A soon as Steve got his shaky legs below him, Bucky was yanking him and bending him over the closed cover of the keys and pulling the bench away. One hand pressed his torso to the polished wood, his foot spread Steve's quivering legs apart.

Steve was so going to kill him after Bucky finished fucking him into 2030.

Steve saw Bucky position himself before he felt the pressure, and his muscles were screaming in protest. The size of Bucky's head seemed to have tripled over thirty seconds. Both of them grunted as Bucky entered, then when Steve cried out, tears forming at the corners of his eyes, Bucky stilled.

" What's the matter? "

Steve only groaned in pleasure and rocked his hips backward. If he didn't get his release soon, his dick was going to explode and drop off. And then Bucky slammed home before Steve was fully ready, and Steve was a millimetre away from an orgasm. Bucky's gasps were almost as loud as Steve's, and Steve was sure that his neighbours could hear every single damn thing, from Bucky's dirty talking to Steve whining and gasping and begging.

" Don't stop. "

Bucky laughed and started ramming in, full force, and Steve's back arched with pleasure. This was what he needed, his nerves shrieking with the rub of a sweaty torso against Steve's slicked back. Bucky's hand was on Steve's thigh, pushing his legs apart so far until Steve whimpered in pain. He was so painfully exposed and Bucky was thrusting so deep he felt like Bucky's dick was definitely going to touch his teeth. He rocked his hips backwards, trying to get his prostrate right in line with Bucky's head, which was pounding in with such a ferocity that left Steve grunting loudly.

In the midst of his pleasure, Steve felt Bucky reach around and wrap his hand over Steve's dick. And then his fist started moving in sync with his hips. " I think I'll cut this short, and fuck you on the sofa so hard. I don't care if you want me to or not. " And Steve was going to die. He was going to die. He was dying, because suddenly Bucky was ramming against the bundle of nerves and his fist was moving so fast that Steve lost every single inch of self control and came, over his piano. He came so hard that the black oak was splattered with white, his vision was painted with golden stars, his moans were so loud and greedy and wanton. And he felt Bucky holding him steady on the piano as Steve's hips bucked forward over and over and over as cum shot out in thick lines, spasm after spasm.

Steve was still twitching slightly when Bucky pulled out of him. " I want you on all fours on the sofa so i can watch my cock slam in and out of you. " Bucky said, and Steve gasped, growing hard, against all odds, again. And when he steered his boyfriend to the sofa, Steve felt Bucky pause as he gazed at the wall. It was a clean shade of white, and Steve knew that he would never be able to look at his wall without feeling Bucky ramming into his prostrate with vigour and ferocity.

He caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, his eyes were so dilated it was unreal, his skin was the colour of a ripe plum, his neck and jaw were covered in hickeys, and his dick was bright red, half mast.

" Not so fucked out yet, " Bucky growled, and if Steve had any energy left, he would have shivered. Bucky smiled and Steve chewed his lip, trying to focus in the haze of his pleasure. He was going to get slammed against the wall so hard there would be permanent bruises on his hips, not that they weren't throbbing now. Steve cried out as Bucky picked up speed, gripping the shoe cabinet in an effort to prevent his legs from giving up. Steve's dick thickened painfully against his stomach, covered in sweat and lube and Bucky was jackhammering so hard that Steve was seeing stars. For real.

And then by some stroke of bad luck, Bucky caught sight of the window seat and his grin increased in size. " We'll give your neighbours a damn good show won't we? " He said mercilessly as Steve cried out desperately, searching for friction, anything to help him hit his climax. again.

He grabbed the grilles as Bucky lifted his right leg and put it on the window seat and Steve leaned forward, exposing himself, crying out needily. " Bucky..." He begged, bracing himself for a thrust.

Bucky slammed in so hard that Steve screamed in pleasure. He rocked his hips backwards as Bucky's occasional, " _aah_ , _Steve_. " drove him towards what might seem like a massive orgasm. He was grunting so hard that sweat was pouring down his cheeks as he fucked himself into Bucky's fist and Bucky was making him harder than he thought he would ever be with his husky and ragged cries of " yes, baby, faster, aah, harder, shit, yes, _yes_ , _Steve_ , yes..." and Steve was going to come, sparks were pooling up in the pit of his body as he let out a guttural cry and screamed Bucky's name. He was leaking so much precum that Bucky's palm moved even faster and Bucky was biting into his shoulder and Steve's back was arching painfully.

Bucky saw the look on his face, and almost lost control. " On the sofa, now. We'll finish this. " He grunted. Steve could barely move, his dick felt like it weighed fifty kilograms, full, leaking badly and ready to explode.

Steve was steered to the sofa, and Bucky pushed his chest down and got into a kneeling position, lifting Steve's legs over his shoulders. Steve groaned, craving for friction and and _Bucky_ , he looked so good, his face pink, his hair stuck to the sides of his face with sweat, four vertical lines on his chest where Steve had raked his fingernails down.

Bucky's thighs pressed against Steve's, and his hole was red and puffy, and when Bucky rocked his hips forward and Steve gasped loudly, he knew that it burned Steve like the first time. Steve moaned brokenly, his voice husky with desire as he tried to sit up. " Did you get bigger or something? " He asked incredulously.

Bucky didn't answer, only rocked himself in and out in tight little circles until Steve could see his already dilated pupils widen. " _Faster... Please.... "_ Steve had lost every shred of dignity he had. All he wanted was for Bucky to fuck him so hard until they both came. Bucky slammed home with such force that Steve cried out.

He knew what would drive Bucky insane.

And he was going to use it.

" _Fuck me_ , _Professor Barnes_ , " His voice was a feral cry as he rocked his hips forward.

And Bucky worked him so deep that Steve almost blacked out. Every thrust and stroke brought out a curse and cry from Steve, and Steve knew that each sound he made was driving Bucky closer to the edge. Bucky reached over and wrapped his hands around Steve's dick. Steve thought Bucky asked him something, but at this point all the sensations building up at the base of his stomach was too overwhelming for him to even form a coherent thought. Steve just groaned in reply for Bucky had sped up his strokes and his dick was slamming Steve's prostrate mercilessly, pounding in with harsh, ragged breaths.

" Come for me, Steve. "

Steve's back curved and suddenly, he froze for three whole seconds as he felt Bucky use up his last remaining reserve of energy to thrust faster and harder, allowing the orgasm that seemed to have been building for the past twenty years rip through Steve like a tidal wave, his mind losing control completely as the black leather couch was coated with lash after lash of Steve's orgasm, completely draining him. Steve's body jerked and twitched uncontrollably as another splash coated the sofa and Bucky kept stroking Steve and Steve came again and again and again. And then he _whimpered_ and then he felt Bucky hit his climax, and suddenly heat was flowing through him, Bucky was screaming Steve's name and Steve could feel Bucky filling him up as he lost control and succumbed to the pure bliss. He felt Bucky's orgasm crash over him like a tsunami, his body slumping against Steve's as he rode out the final moments of his orgasm before the two of them, sweaty, drenched in come, and slick with lube, collapsed on the sofa in utter exhaustion.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO THIS IS THE SMUT SCENE, 3316 WORDS OF PURE, UNCENSORED, DETAILED, GRAPHIC SMUT.
> 
> round of applause to all 4 people who wrote this scene for me. didn't expect it to be so rough but thank you all the same. to all the readers, i hope you enjoyed The Sex as much as steve and bucky did.
> 
> thank you, as always, for your support!  
> x


	20. Chapter 20

They lay entwined on the cum coated sofa for a while, Steve getting peppered with kisses and a litany of praise.

" Can you stand, baby? " Bucky asked, pulling away and brushing Steve's sweaty hair away from his forehead, peering concernedly at the half asleep blond.

" Nnrhgn "

" Okay, I'll clean everything up. "

Steve barely registered Bucky pulling away, his body still shuddering slightly as he took deep breaths. He'd never expected his first time to be him getting fucked on almost every surface in his house and his throat aching after all his cries, but as he drifted off, he only seemed to be filled with a numb sense of satisfaction and bliss. How had he gone his whole life without encountering this feeling, he definitely did not know.

By the time Bucky reappeared with a wet cloth, still fully naked, hair tied neatly at the nape of his neck, Steve had gained enough energy to push himself into a sitting position, gazing at the purple and red splotches on his hips, the finger shaped bruises on his arms and how his cheeks ached from beard burn caused by Bucky's damned stubble.

Bucky.

He lifted up one of Steve's legs and cleaned it carefully before moving to the other one and then rinsing the cloth before he repeated the process with the rest of his body before gently lifting Steve onto a clean part of the sofa ( easier said than done. ) and disappearing back into the kitchen with the obscenely dirty cloth.

" I'm hungry. " Steve said conversationally as Bucky began to wipe the mess off his beloved piano, forehead scrunching up in concentration as the polished wood returned to its original glow.

" Call MacDonald's. I'd like a cheeseburger with no pickles. "

-

Thirty minutes later, Steve and Bucky both clean and showered, ( Steve had insisted that he had enough, so they spent their time giving each other shampoo mohawks instead of Bucky sucking Steve off again. The brunet had offered with a sultry wink and half lidded eyes, and if Steve wasn't aching all over, he would have agreed immediately ) sat on the sofa they'd just christened and shared an extra large coke. Steve ripped open the bright pink and orange Happy Meal bag, tossed the toy at Bucky without looking at it before pulling out his nuggets, opening the box with indecent enthusiasm and eating two at one go.

There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of chewing and the opening of ketchup packets.

Then -

" I have to tell you something, " Steve began, setting down his box of french fries and turning to Bucky, who was lying in his lap and eating his burger with childlike enthusiasm.

His voice was uncharacteristically serious, a stark contrast from when he was crying for Bucky and moaning in pleasure. But he had to tell Bucky that was his first time, only regret that he'd chose to do it after sex had begun plaguing his mind. There was a long silence as Bucky put his food down.

Bucky cocked an eyebrow in worry.

" I uh, " Steve began, his cheeks red and he looked away. " I'm not a virgin. "

Bucky nodded, his brow furrowed in confusion, and Steve realized he needed to be more specific.

" After my parents left, I, um, I was still a virgin. Now I'm not. " He said quickly, stumbling over his words and refusing to meet Bucky's gaze.

Silence.

Steve sneaked a glimpse at Bucky, whose jaw was hanging open as he gaped at Steve. " Say something, " Steve urged quietly, looking away. There was the sound of Bucky clearing his throat and then,

" I have six thousand responses to that statement. "

" Go for it. "

" Holy shit, Steve! I can't believe you asked me to ram into you. On your first time. Din't you plan on, I don't know, taking things slow? " Bucky asked, shaking his head. Steve laughed and shifted so that he could sit on Bucky's lap. " Well... " His voice trailed off as he traced a finger down Bucky's jaw. " I did, but you were eager. And it felt good. Next response. "

Bucky rolled his eyes. Then in a more serious tone, " Did it meet your expectations? " And then Steve grinned again. " I had two orgasms, and i screamed myself hoarse. So you tell me. Okay, what's next? "

A pause, then, " You fuck really good for someone with no prior experience. " And Steve swatted at Bucky with his chicken nugget. If he had any energy left, he would have punched Bucky. But nope. " This is a special skill, " Steve said, mimicking a British accent and batting his eyelashes. Bucky kissed him full on the lips.

And then, " Did you like it when I called you Mr Rogers, like I call my students? " Bucky asked tentatively. Steve sniggered loudly. " Yes, I did. But someone here might have a professor kink, I must say. " " Fuck you. " Bucky said, laughing bawdily and shoving a french fry at Steve. He caught it in his mouth and laughed again.

" You just did. "

Steve caught the second french fry square on his forehead.

" And are you eating a _happy meal_ immediately after you lose your virginity? "

Steve turned scarlet and huffed loudly. " i just wanted some chicken nuggets. "

" Dork. "

" Dick. "

-

Steve ripped the plastic wrapper off the free toy and pulled out a bright purple bubble wand and a small bottle and ignored Bucky's look of amusement as his eyes shone with excitement. He stifled a yawn and gingerly unscrewed the bottle carefully and dipped the plastic wand into it with the meticulous care of a child determined not to waste a single drop of the bubble mix.

And he blew a stream of bubbles towards Bucky, laughing delightedly when Bucky batted the soapy suds away and rolled his eyes. " I'll blow more bubbles when we're not in my house. " Steve said absentmindedly as he carefully put the bubble wand and and the bottle back into the mangled packaging before turning to Bucky, " Stop laughing! "

Bucky sobered up before his voice segued seamlessly to a sexy baritone, his lusty gaze trained on the blushing blond, " Why blow bubbles when you can blow me? "

Steve had been in the midst of clearing their rubbish and blushed to the roots of his hair and choked on his spit. He turned away and tossed the rubbish into the trashcan and washed his hands and the grease stain on his forehead.

" Is it okay if i stay over? It's two thirty and I, um, i don't - " Bucky asked tentatively, resting a hand on Steve's waist as he reached around Steve for his tooth brush and his toothpaste after tying his hair up. Steve met his boyfriend's eyes in the mirror, his face was slightly red from stubble burn, and Bucky was sporting a massive hickey on his neck. He smiled gently before putting his toothbrush in his mouth and nodding.

And then after Steve bent down to rinse his mouth, the brunet splashed a handful of water into his face.

" STAY ARE YOUR OWN DAMN HOUSE. " 

" I SUCKED YOUR DICK. YOU CAN'T COMPLAIN. "

-

Steve stripped the defiled sheets and tossed a clean one to Bucky and gave him a side look. " We just pounded the mattress, it's smelling like stale sweat. So change the sheets. " Steve groaned exasperatedly when Bucky shot him a puzzled look.

His handsome features cleared, and when Bucky spoke, it was with a voice that made the hairs on the back of Steve's neck stand. " If you're going to do this every time we have sex, you might want to buy new bed sheets soon. "

And then he slapped Steve on the ass when the blond shoved past him, his face as red as a tomato.

-

Steve couldn't remember when he had ever felt such a sense of security as he burrowed under his comforter, spooning his bolster while Bucky's arm lay draped over his waist. Certainly not before he'd met Bucky, but even as Bucky was peppering chaste kisses up and down Steve's head, he had to remind himself that it wasn't a dream.

His dating life had been such a joke that the fact that he was lying in his bed with his boyfriend's warm and wide chest pressed against his back after they'd had very mind blowing sex made him want to burst into laughter.

" Goodnight, 'kee. " Steve mumbled, voice muffled by the pillow.

Bucky's hand tightened around Steve's waist and pulled him closer.

" G'night, baby. "

-

Steve woke up before his eyes opened, and for a moment he wondered why he was in such a comfortable position before realising with a jolt that he was sleeping on top of Bucky, his face resting on Bucky's chest and his left hand intertwined with Bucky's right hand under a pillow. He carefully detached himself from the brunet, smiling at his innocent and beautiful sleeping profile before brushing his teeth as quietly as he could, admiring his hickeys, all six of them, and gingerly prodding the bruises littering his thighs and hips and smiling with satisfaction before padding to the kitchen.

It was the most cliche thing that would ever happen in a bad romance novel : one partner wakes up early to make breakfast for the other.

But Steve wanted it. He wanted to pamper Bucky and make him fried eggs and feed him sliced mango for breakfast and slide him a mug of coffee and ruffle the brunet's hair while he tried to catch more sleep on the table. He hummed as he cracked three eggs into the frying pan and defrosted some bacon, even singing quietly as he sliced an apple and picking up an opened box of blueberries and setting them on the counter.

He spied Bucky lurking behind the door in his boxers and wearing a small smile in his face when he was singing at the top of his lungs, using his spatula as a microphone, and at one point leaping onto a chair and belting out a chorus.

" Good morning, handsome, " Steve smirked, sliding a plate of fried eggs and bacon over the table. Bucky seemed to _radiate_ happy energy as he popped a blueberry into his mouth. Steve sat down opposite and the two of them ate quietly for a while ( Okay, Bucky moaned when he tasted the bacon. ) before Bucky spoke very quietly.

" No nightmares last night. "

Steve paused, a forkful of egg yolk at his mouth before he put it down and reached over to cup Bucky's cheek with his palm before smiling sincerely.

" First time. "

Bucky seemed to be talking to himself, his food abandoned as his eyes focused on something far away. He seemed puzzled about something, and his brow was furrowed as though in deep thought.

" In two years. "

Steve tried not to gape, and rearranged his facial expressions into one of nonchalance when Bucky seemed to jolt to his senses and started raving about how good Steve's cooking was, and swearing that he would never ever leave Steve's apartment if he persisted with cooking.

Bucky seemed to be in an unusually good mood as he helped Steve to wash the dishes, flicking soapy water at Steve's face and hitting him playfully in highly inappropriate areas with a cloth.

Not that Steve minded. He never did.

-

And then later they collapsed on the sofa, consciously avoiding the middle and laughing hysterically as Bucky discovered that Steve was ticklish and had taken it upon himself to purposely make things as hard as he could for Steve.

It wasn't the best life in the world, Steve admitted to himself, as he sat down at the piano to practice and Bucky sprawled on the carpet and worked on a sketch, but Steve wouldn't trade this sense of contentment and security for anything else in the world.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

They went over to Bucky's so that Natasha and Clint could eat in a place, to quote Natasha, " which hadn't been defiled yet. " And so the four of them slumped over floor cushions and Steve and Bucky were grilled on their first time.

Steve was blushing so badly that he was sure that all the blood in his face would cause his cheeks to rupture, but Bucky seemed to be enjoying himself, making up the most ridiculous stories just to irritate the redhead, an arm slung casually over Steve's waist. Natasha shoved a spoonful of pasta salad into her mouth and continued firing questions, ignoring Steve, who was sitting in a corner far away from Bucky, his hands clamped over his ears.

" Can we play Mario Kart? " He asked hurriedly, desperate for a change in topic when Natasha asked how many condoms they used and Bucky shrugged before mentioning something that sounded like " a whole box ".

Bad idea.

Half an hour later, Natasha was in tears and Bucky was sporting a bruise on his jaw and Steve was standing between his best friends and Clint was recording the whole fiasco. Bucky was shouting bloody murder in Russian and Natasha was raining punches on him and he was kicking her back without qualm. If he wasn't on the receiving end of the kicks, Steve would have been incredibly amused by the situation. And his best friend's ability to speak Russian

" Clint, " Steve shouted, his arms around Natasha's waist, shielding her as Bucky advanced, still cursing and swearing. Natasha's hair was a mess, and she was struggling viciously, trying to land another kick on Bucky's ribs.

Clint tackled Bucky, and for ten solid minutes the four of them were a writhing mess on the floor, punctuated by Natasha's screaming and Bucky's fluent Russian swear words. They only stopped when an errant punch hit Steve square on the nose and it started to bleed.

And Bucky pressed an ice pack on Steve's face when the blond lay with his head on the brunet's lap, and Natasha was on Clint's lap, his arms wrapped around her, making sure she wouldn't pounce. " It was a bloody blue shell, Natty. " Steve groaned as Bucky flipped the redhead off and Natasha retaliated with a murderous glare.

There were no more incidents, save that of some discreet pinches and slaps as the four of them picked up fallen books and wiping up spilled wine and righting lamps.

Bucky's phone vibrated.

Steve peeked over, noticing with a smile that his wallpaper was the picture of them Natasha had snapped when she caught them making out. Steve was smiling genuinely in the picture, and for a moment, his heart swelled with affection.

Bucky picked up the phone and swiped the screen, and Steve saw the blood in his cheeks drain visibly. When he tried put the phone on the table, his hands were shaking so badly, the phone dropped to the coffee table with a thunk.

" Buck? " Natasha asked as Steve sped to the kitchen in search for Bucky's medication. The brunet's face was twisted with terror and a dry sob escaped him. Steve shoved the medication into Bucky's mouth as Clint dashed forward with his bottle of water. The brunet's breathing was uneven, and he pressed the palms of his hands to the sides of his head as Natasha crouched over him, murmuring into his ear as his shoulders relaxed marginally.

It took Bucky about twenty minutes to calm down sufficiently to form a coherent sentence, and even so, he addressed only Natasha and Clint. " He sent me my address. "

Steve glanced between Clint and Natasha, bewildered as the two of them exchanged looks. Natasha squared her shoulders and whispered something as Bucky picked up his phone and showed something to Natasha, his hand angled so that Steve wouldn't be able to see anything. " What's going on? " He asked, doubt pooling in his chest when Natasha shook her head and mimed zipping her mouth.

Bucky was taking deep breaths as he turned to Steve before saying in a would be casual voice, " Maybe I'll see you in school after the holiday, okay? I think I'm just tired. "

Steve glanced at the redhead, who was clenching a fist in her lap as she reread whatever was on Bucky's phone. The brunet stood up, his knees still trembling as he walked Steve down to the lift lobby. Steve's heart was contracting with worry, but Bucky seemed to be worse. His cheeks were still pale, and his eyes were darting around the deserted lobby. He couldn't even hide the look of terror in his eyes when he turned to Steve and enveloped him.

" Bye, " Steve said in a small voice, choosing not to pry when he noted that Bucky's heart was still beating erratically. The brunet cupped Steve's cheeks and pressed the smallest of kisses on his lips and inhaled in one long breath before he broke away. And then he practically sprinted into the lift, leaving Steve baffled and slightly hurt on his own.

-

_Hey Bucky, i hope you're okay._

_How are you? Haven't heard anything from you yet._

_You alright? Hope you are._

_It's okay if you're busy, please just reply something._

_It's been four hours, please call me back._

_I don't want to bother you, but I need to know you're okay._

_Bucky?_

_It's okay. I miss you, I hope you're fine._

_I called Natasha, she says she's still at your place._

_Bucky? Please text me back._

_I really want to hear from you, just one text._

_Please tell me you're okay._

_Why won't you talk to me?_

_Can I come over?_

**No** _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST THINGS FIRST i'm sorry for the lack of updates and that's because i've been celebrating the chinese new year with my family.
> 
> updates have also been slow because i'm losing my motivation to upload something, and i literally have to force myself to sit down and turn on my laptop and WRITE. i tried to make it up to y'all with a longer chapter.
> 
> x


	21. Chapter 21

Natasha called Steve later that night and told him that he had nothing to worry about, it was something about Bucky's past that had caught him, and she subtly hinted that he was not allowed to mention anything at work, and that he should give Bucky some  space, or at least, not to pepper him with questions.

And so Steve avoided Bucky as best as he could, leaving the staff room the minute the brunet came in, and eating lunch with Peggy in the corner deli instead of the cafeteria. He didn't know what to make of the whole situation, slightly confused and mostly upset.

It was too hard to work at home where every thing reminded him of Bucky, ( the pencils on his coffee table, the toothbrush in his bathroom, the leather belt from Thanksgiving that was lying on his floor, the controller which Bucky had stuck a little bluebird sticker on ), and Steve decided to work in the staff room on his own during the lunch break, just like he and Bucky always used to do and ate a granola bar he brought from home.

" Hi, " Bucky came up and Steve jumped, his pen making a blue line across the page. The blond put his pen down and glanced up, pretending to stretch his neck.

His eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids were puffy from lack of sleep. His hair was tied back, and his jaw was dark with stubble. Steve wanted to hug him, but instead he stayed in his seat, peering up at Bucky and smiling for a second before he dropped his attention back to an email he wanted to reply to, clicking his pen just so that he had something to do with his hands.

" I was wondering if you have any sleeping pills with you, " Bucky began, his usual melodious baritone sounding slightly off. Steve saw his hands shake slightly. " I wanted to take a nap during lunch because I couldn't sleep for the past few nights and..." Bucky trailed off and he wrung his hands anxiously before shoving them unceremoniously into his pockets.

" No, sorry, " Steve said, frowning at a typo he'd made and correcting it without looking up, or checking his bag. He saw Bucky nod out of the corner of his eye, and his fingers brushed gently over Steve's forearm as he walked over to the sofa and made himself comfortable. Steve couldn't help noticing that the temperature of the room was lower than the temperature Bucky usually preferred. ( Bucky knew Steve's air conditioning remote controls better than Steve himself did. )

He walked over five minutes later with his jacket and offered it to Bucky, who was curled up on the couch, looking like a lost puppy. " Are you mad at me? " Bucky asked tentatively as Steve sat down and stared at the floor. The blond shook his head, and after a slight hesitation, he shifted so that he was pressed on top Bucky, his waist slotted neatly between Bucky's hips and Bucky's chest rising and falling rhythmically below his left ear.

Bucky's fingers drew slow, idle patterns on the small of his back as they cuddled on the couch, a whole lot of unspoken things lingering between them, and Steve felt himself falling asleep, accustomed to the smell of cinnamon. 

And before he dozed off, he was struck by a vision, something like an epiphany, of Bucky and him in a park, having a family of their own, a little girl with blond pigtails and hazel eyes holding hands with her older brother, with a beautiful diamond wedding ring on his left hand, smiling at Bucky - now greying at the temples, his laugh lines mixed with wrinkles.

-

" - swear, if you fucking wake up my boyfriend I will make sure your body is found in a body bag. " Steve heard Bucky hiss, and from the crack of his eyelids, watch his boyfriend make an intense throat slicing gesture, at Tony who had stuffed a fist into his mouth from laughing.

" You two look adorable, " Steve heard Wanda whisper, and realised with a jolt that he had somehow shifted during his nap so that one leg was wrapped around Bucky, and his face was tucked into the crook of his neck.  

Steve snuffled and pretended to yawn as he pushed himself away from Bucky, straightened his shirt and rubbed his eyes sleepily. Bucky followed suit, pausing only to mutter " You're so dead " to Tony, while flashing him the iciest glare Steve had ever seen. ( Steve saw Natasha plaster duct tape on Sam's mouth. )

" Did you sleep? " Steve asked as he put on his shoes and flexed his wrist.

Bucky nodded. " Dinner at my place tonight? A simple date, both of us? "

There seemed to be a common acknowledgement to ignore whatever had shaken Bucky so badly, but Steve nodded anyway, suppressing any lingering doubt and questions as he mentally ran through a list of florists around the area.

The brunet seemed to be happy that Steve was choosing to ignore the tension between them, and paused to press the most chaste of kisses to his lips before his cheerful grin morphed into a grave look as he hailed Natasha and led her outside, the whole time conversing in an uncharacteristically low tone.

At seven fifteen sharp he was at Bucky's lobby, waiting patiently for the lifts and holding a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He'd gone the whole hog - sunflowers in a bright amber, lilies in a shocking crimson, Canberras in a funky orange shade with baby's breath in soothing yellow.

" hi, " Steve said breathlessly, holding the arrangement out, doing his best to make sure that he didn't trigger an asthma attack, smiling at Bucky, who seemed shell shocked the riot of colour thrust at his face.

Bucky pulled him in, and before Steve could ask if he liked the arrangement, was shoved roughly against the wall and Bucky was kissing him fervently, a quiet moan rising from the back of Steve's throat as he transferred the bouquet to one hand and tugged Bucky's long hair with the other.

" Thanks, " Bucky said thickly, enveloping Steve in a bear hug until they both realized that the front door was wide open, and broke apart so that Steve could walk into the kitchen and rummage in Bucky's cabinets for a vase and Bucky could shut the door.

It seemed like a few days ago that Steve was entering Bucky's house for the first time ever, and now, he seemed to know it as well as his own. There was a heaping plate of garlic bread on the table, a long standing joke between the both of them, and Bucky slid past him, removing a dish of mushroom ravioli and doling it out onto Steve's plate on the counter.

Steve made an appreciative sound as Bucky went the whole hog, pulling out his chair, laying a napkin across his lap and pouring him a glass of wine with the finesse of a well trained bartender.

" For you, my love, " Bucky said with a flourish, setting the plate out in front of the blond and whipping out a box of matches before proceeding to light up the off white candles. Steve's chest fluttered at how he'd been addressed, and was thankful that the soft orange glow of the candles covered his blush.

So far he'd rejected each and every single one of Bucky's nicknames for him, but somehow, he seemed to like " my love ". He just hoped that the brunet didn't realise this, and started eating enthusiastically, masking his pleased expression by stuffing himself.

" Stevie... "

Shit. Bucky noticed.

" Hmm...? " 

Okay, Steve, act dumb.

" Didn't hear you objecting to _my love_ , " Bucky drawled slyly, winking over at Steve, who was 100% certain that his face was so red, the glow of the candles wouldn't be able to conceal it. He swallowed the mouthful of ravioli ( which was absolutely _incredible_ , by the way ), and consciously avoided Bucky's gaze.

" Do you like it? "

Bucky was definitely not referring to the food.

Steve set down his spoon and buried his face into his hands, peeked at his boyfriend from behind his fingers and nodded, bracing himself for the bawdy laughter that was sure to follow. But Bucky remained silent, his head tilted a bit to the side as he considered Steve before nodding and raising his wineglass.

Steve held his own up and Bucky clinked them together.

" To my love. "

" And _my_ Bucky. "

" Honestly, I was expecting some cheesy nickname as well. "

" Too bad. "

-

_You have no missed calls and text messages._

Steve showed his phone screen to his best friend with a worried frown, biting his lip anxiously as Natasha blew on her freshly painted fingernails ( they were dark purple ) and glanced at the screen. " Why's Bucky not replying to me? And why hasn't he come to school for three days? And why doesn't he answer the door? " Steve asked, his words tripping over one another as the lines on his forehead deepened and he dialed Bucky yet again.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

Four rings.

Five rings.

" Hey, Clint, is this thing on? _Yes, you dumb shit, you have to record your message._ Oh _._ hello, it's Bucky, and this is my voicemail - _Barnes we know that, you have to now say that you're unavailable and you'd phone right back._ Right, thanks Clint. Okay, so if you're hearing this, I'm probably unavailable right now - _No shit, Bucky._ Shut your mouth, Clint. Okay, just leave your message, and I'll phone you right back. Unless you're Clint, because I never call Clint back. He's a shit thing.  _Bitch_! Okay, bye. "

Steve hung up, smiling wistfully when he heard the three second ending of Bucky's melodious laughter, before his doubts came rushing back, and he tossed his phone on the couch. Natasha was adding a silvery coat to her nails, and she spared him one glance.

" You know why. " Steve said suddenly, glancing up from his spot on the floor where he was preparing coursework materials. The redhead met his glare evenly, blowing on her nails.

" Of course I do. "

Steve shoved his laptop off his thighs and faced Natasha squarely. " _You knew_? " He gaped, bristling from the fact that his best friend had known something, and didn't bother telling him about it. Natasha blew on her nails one last and crossed her legs gracefully before turning to face him and repeating her last sentence without so much as looking embarrassed.

Steve opened his mouth to demand an answer, but the redhead held up one perfectly painted finger. " No, Steve. I'm not in a position to say anything. He told Clint and I that we had to shut up about it. So I won't dishonour him by spilling his shit, even though you're my best friend. "

Steve closed his mouth, defeated. Natasha was one of the most loyal and trustworthy person in the planet. If he told Natasha something and strictly forbade her from telling anyone, she would carry his secret to her grave. And it was one of the things Steve really respected her for. Once she swore to shut her mouth, she would. Nothing could change her mind.

" I just hope he's alright. " Steve said sadly as his call went to voicemail again.

Natasha twitched like a spider, then pretended she didn't.

-

Bucky came back the next day, looking pale and gaunt, his eyes droopy with tiredness and Steve personally saw him eating medication. Four times.

He had smiled at the brunet when they passed by each other in the hallways, but Bucky was so lost in thought that he barely responded.

And he bought Bucky a pack of gummy bears during lunch and set it on his desk, but Bucky took a full ten seconds to focus on the packet before offering Steve a wan smile. His eyes were unfocused. Steve tried not to stare.

Steve packed his things at six pm and sat despondently in the backseat of his car for a solid ten minutes, his chest aching with worry and tears threatening to fall out of his eyes. Bucky seemed to be struggling badly with something, and Steve realized, with a sudden pang of sadness, that he didn't trust Steve enough to share it with him. Not that Steve had to know everything about Bucky's life, but the worry was driving him insane, and Natasha was not much help at all.

He gazed at Bucky when the brunet jogged over to his own car and watched as he drove out before clambering awkwardly to his own seat and going home, having spoken a grand total of 17 words to Bucky.

-

_Dear Mr Rogers,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you are now hired as the official piano accompanist for our choir's concert next year on June 29th at the Royal Concert Hall. Rehearsals are on Tuesdays and Saturdays, both starting at 730 pm until 9 pm in the evening._

_Included below is a list of  songs included in our repertoire, along with PDF files of the official piano score. We trust that you would have familiarized yourself with at least the first three before the first official rehearsal this Saturday, in five days time._

_Should you have any inquiries or feedback, please do not hesitate to contact the school at this email address. Thank you._

Steve smiled proudly as he skimmed the song list, a burst of pleasure coursing through him. This was a wonderful opportunity for him! He immediately began running a list of people whom he'd invite to his concert. So far, he had all six members of his immediate family, Natasha, Bucky, Clint, Bucky, Sam, Tony, Bucky, Wanda, Thor, Bucky, Peggy, Bucky.

Bucky.

Steve pushed his laptop away before opening his desk drawer and pulling out a slim brown box and opening it.

The silver glinted in the harsh lighting of his room, and Steve picked up the key with careful fingers and gazed at it, a frown tugging down the corners of his face. Steve only realized how much Bucky was integrated into his life when he was doing laundry and realized that about one quarters of the clothes were Bucky's, and how his guest room was filled with art supplies and Bucky's easels and his paintbrushes and boxes of pencils and markers, and how his freezer had been stocked with the green tea ice cream Steve didn't like but Bucky apparently loved, and there was a stack of music scores on top of his piano of Bucky's favourite songs.

And then after a long time of consideration, Steve had gone out and duplicated his house key, and was waiting for the perfect time it to Bucky. He wasn't asking his boyfriend to move in, but he wanted to tell the brunet that he was always welcome at Steve's house, and always would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO FAM
> 
> i don't really have much time to update this story, what with my twelve hour work shifts ahaha thank you if you're still sticking with me :-)
> 
> i'm also beta-ing my own work now, so forgive any mistakes!!
> 
> have a great day ahead :-)))


	22. Chapter 22

Bucky was laughing boisterously as he flicked some sugar at Natasha, and Steve watched, amused, as the redhead threw an egg right as his face ( staining his nose bright yellow ). The three of them were in Natasha's kitchen, attempting to bake a chocolate cake, the same cake that Steve had baked a few weeks ago and impressed Natasha until she was speechless, and then demanded a tutorial.

" Can we focus? " Steve asked, raising his voice in exasperation as he cracked eggs into a bowl ( single handedly! ), only to see his boyfriend pull on the front of Natasha's shirt and dump a bowl of milk into it, ducking expertly as she swung her fist in a right hook.

" Right, sorry Stevie, " Bucky said, sobering up as best as he could as he worked on measuring flour and turning away from Natasha, whose jaw was hanging open as she took in the milk which was slowly dripping onto her pants, both middle fingers raised high above her head.

Bad idea.

The redhead seized the cube of butter ( steve had already weighed it. damn her. ) and lobbed it at Bucky, but skidded slightly on the milk, causing the butter to land on Steve's collarbone. Bucky snorted with laughter as Steve flung the cold mess away from him and reached for another egg, only to feel Bucky tip the rest of the carton of milk inside _his_ shirt, cackling madly.

" This means war! " Natasha screamed, ducking behind the chair with the whole packet of cocoa powder. Bucky reached for the flour and his stance changed to one of laid back to one getting ready for a fight. Steve narrowed his eyes and clutched a carton of milk in one hand, the other, holding the tin of baking powder. There was a tense silence.

" CHARGE! " Bucky yelled, and suddenly there was brown powder staining his shirt and Steve flung a handful of baking powder at Bucky's head just as Bucky emptied half the bag of flour over Natasha's head. Natasha grabbed the eggs, and suddenly Steve's legs were coated in slimy yolk.The three of them shrieked like children, dumping chocolate powder on each other, pouring milk on the floor so that the other two would skid, and coating each other with sugar and flour, yelling vulgarities at the top of their lungs and shoving each other.

And then Bucky slid across the floor, having tripped over an eggshell and effectively dousing Steve in milk. Steve raised the entire packet of sugar, pushing milk soaked hair out of his face as Natasha flung whatever was left of the baking powder on him.

" What the _fuck_ is happening? "

Clint stood at the door still holding Kat's leash as he slowly took in his flour coated wife and the wrecked kitchen and the egg yolk on the walls and steve's cocoa coated hair.

He slowly backed out the kitchen as Natasha bent down and picked up eggshell, her lips twitching as she tried to appear contrite.

" Bucky, you can go take a bath first. Steve and I will clean this up, " She said, assessing the dirtiest of the three of them.

Steve nodded and smiled at his boyfriend, looking helplessly adorable with his shirt stained with cocoa powder.

And for a moment, reality hit him like a ton of bricks. Standing here in the kitchen, stomach aching from all the laughing and shivering slightly because of the milk and having the time of his life with two people who mattered more than the world did with him, he was filled a too rare content.

And he realized that he loved Bucky.

Standing in the kitchen mopping the counters, Steve realized with a pang that he loved Bucky with all his insecurities and his love for photography and his amazing sketches and his beautiful voice and his cheating tactics at Mario Kart and his melodious laugh and his silky hair and how he always made Steve feel happy and his horrible baking skills and his appreciation whenever Steve played the piano and his enthusiastic support for Steve's concert and how he gave the best hugs.

" I love Bucky. " Steve said aloud, quietly as he rinsed the cloth.

Natasha glanced up from where she was picking up eggshells and cocked her head. " Did you tell him yet? " She asked. Steve shook his head and stared at his hands.

" When is the perfect time to tell someone you love them? " He asked, forehead creasing in thought.

" There's no one perfect time. " She said, gently. " You have to make it become the perfect time. "

He considered this. " Does it hurt to love someone? "

" Excruciatingly, " She replied, " And it's one of the best feelings in the world. "

-

Bucky looked incredibly haggard.

Steve could see an angry red line where he'd cut himself shaving, the listlessness in his brown eyes that shone with mischief at Natasha's house a few days back, the creases in his shirt which wasn't ironed, the hair trim that didn't change the fact that his cheeks were gaunt.

And he avoided Steve's gaze the whole day.

-

Steve got up from the piano when he head the doorbell ring, and pulled his front door open to see Bucky standing there, shivering slightly and looking very miserable.

It would be a good time to give Bucky the key to his house, something to make him less upset, Steve thought as Bucky stepped inside, smiling gratefully for a fleeting second before his face transformed into one of grim dissatisfaction again.

" I have something to tell you, " They both said at the same time, though Steve's voice was chipper and Bucky talked like he was going to announce the death of a close friend.

There was a pause.

" You go first, " Steve said, unwilling to let his surprise be overshadowed. He wanted Bucky's full an undivided attention for this. He could feel the metal in his pocket where he'd been touching it nonstop for the past few days, _i love you Bucky,_ echoing in his head.

He'd planned a whole speech, telling Bucky every reason that motivated him to duplicate his key and ending with an i love -

" I think we should take a break. "

Steve came to his senses with a painful jolt as his chest tightened as though he was being strangled. His brain was refusing to process what Bucky was saying, and the look Bucky was currently giving him made tears rise to his eyes.

He counted to ten and took a deep breath before speaking.

" Why? "

His voice sounded painfully unsure and small. His throat was constricting, and his hands curled into fists as he battled his tears and tried to listen to what Bucky was saying.

Bucky's voice was a rush of unintelligible sound to Steve's ears as he gnawed on his lips and focused his gaze just north of Bucky's head. He was saying something, but Steve's brain was repeating Bucky's first statement over and over and over and over and over.

_Why?_

_Why him?_

_Why Bucky?_

_Why?_

Steve felt a tear trickle down his cheek and he leaned against the wall, staring at his feet as he scrubbed the heel of his hand across his face. This couldn't happen.

" We're not breaking up, Steve. We're just...taking a break from our relationship. " Bucky's voice hit Steve with the force of a tornado. Steve couldn't breathe. His breaths were increasing in speed. His chest was tightening.

This was exactly like a horrible scene from a horrible romance movie and one person would always be fake sobbing and then comes the begging but it was and just but then and nothing and he but -

But he forced himself to remain on his feet, swaying slightly, as he reined in his tears.

" Would it make you happy? " He asked, his voice cracking on the last word.

" What? "

" Taking a break. From me. " Steve clarified, wanting to break down into sobs. 

" Yes. "

No hesitation. No second thought. No doubt.

" Okay, " Steve breathed, closing his eyes as he tipped his head back and took seven measured breaths before opening his eyes.

He wouldn't fight Bucky on this. If taking a break would make Bucky happy, then a break they would take. If breaking up made Bucky happier, hell, Steve would keep his tears to himself. In spite of all the thoughts rushing through his head, only two stood clear. He still loved Bucky, and he would do anything to make Bucky happy, even if it was at the expense of his own happiness.

 _Excruciating_ , Natasha had said.

" You said you had something to tell me, " Bucky said, his gaze never leaving his own hands, which he was wringing with a heightened ferocity.

Steve took a deep breath.

" This is for you, " He began, voice trembling as he dropped the key into Bucky's palm.

" I'm not a-asking you to move in, " He rushed to clarify, his voice cracking and shaking madly. " I just - I realized that you spend a lot of - I mean you come over a lot, and I don't want to - I want you to feel like you're always welcome in my house, and you're not a guest who has to keep ringing - who needs to uh, ring the doorbell. And with this key, I'm - I just want you t-to know that you can come over any time. I-if you want to uh, stare at the wall and not talk, you can. If you want to come over to raid my - if you want to eat my ice cream because of a bad day, you can always do that too. If you- um, you're always welcome in my house, Bucky. I want you to know that and um, "Steve broke off, sure that at the rate of his stuttering, Bucky wouldn't understand everything.

Not that Bucky -

" You don't have to stay over every day, but uh I just, I want you to know that - It's just, I want you to know that uh, mi casa su casa. Always. "

And before Bucky could respond, Steve turned away and fled into his bedroom, locking the door as a sob escaped him and he crumpled against the door, clutching at his chest, trying to lessen the pain, trying to repel the ache.

Maybe this wasn't what Natasha meant, but Steve knew that he would take on any pain with no complaints just to make Bucky happy. Was this love? Steve had known so little love in his life, all of it was family and platonic love, and nothing had ever come out of romantic attraction. It was always just him, on his own. And he was on his own again.

-

" Hello-o-o? " Sam clapped his hands and Steve flinched.

" You've been like, staring at the - Steve, buddy, you alright? " Sam's tone changed from indignation to genuine concern.

Steve nodded and brushed him off quickly, moving to the weights. He'd taken sleeping pills ( Bucky's ) and fallen asleep on Bucky's favourite seat on the sofa. He'd closed the door to the guest room. He'd cried himself to sleep. He's hugged the pillow Bucky always hogged and drank water from Bucky's coffee mug ( Bucky had brought it over and never took it back home ).

And he didn't know how to face Bucky.

When he called Natasha, she'd come over and hugged him for 10 minutes while he allowed himself to cry, the whole time wondering how he had messed up, and beat himself up over and over while she rocked him back and forth, giving whatever comfort she could, stroking his hair and rubbing his back until he felt okay.

Steve straightened his arms, triceps quivering his effort and he gazed blankly at the ceiling as he wiped a bead of sweat from his neck. To think that merely a few days before he'd realized that he loved Bucky. And then Bucky had asked him for a break. Steve had watched enough bad romance movies to know that it meant that their relationship was on the rocks.

Not that it mattered to Bucky anyway, Steve thought bitterly, the brunet had left without a word, or voiced his concern for Steve's emotional state.

-

Steve smiled politely at the conductor of the choir before he took a seat at the ancient piano, listening carefully to instructions and cues and his gaze wandered absentmindedly to his folder of scores. Bucky had doodled across the plain black plastic file with a silver marker - a complicated design of roses and leaves and thorns, each petal shaded to perfection and each thorn a perfect angle.

He missed his Bucky.

Intro of the first song.

Pause.

Comments taken down studiously.

He replayed the same phrase.

Choir messed something up.

They finished the first song.

He took notes.

The choir sang again from the top.

Cut.

More notes.

He replayed the same thing.

Heightened his dynamics.

Nine pm rolled around.

He packed his things up.

He spoke to the conductor.

Unlocked his car.

Sat inside for three minutes.

Drove home.

-

Steve called Bucky but didn't expect an answer. He'd been doing so every night just so he could hear the sound of Bucky's laugh again at the end of his voicemail.

Steve sang Bucky's part in the duets. He wished that it was the brunet who was belting out lyrics and using his Harry Potter figurine as a microphone.

Steve traced his finger over the line of Bucky's sketches. He wanted to be able to sit behind Bucky and observe as his boyfriend drew in exquisite detail.

" Steve? "

Steve dropped his phone at the sound of Bucky's voice, croaky and hoarse.

" Sorry, " Steve stammered nervously, " I didn't mean to be a bother I just wanted to..."

Bucky sighed. " To? "

Steve remained silent, trying to commit the sound of Bucky's voice to memory. It seemed as though he'd completely lost any recollection of Bucky's voice since Bucky had wanted a break even though he'd called every night.

" Steve? "

He took a deep breath and shook his head. " I really wanted to- "

Bucky prompted him to speak again.

Steve had nothing left to lose. He'd given Bucky everything, he'd allowed Bucky to break his heart, he'd given Bucky unlimited access to his house.

" I just wanted to hear your voice. And your laugh. Um, in your voicemail. " Steve gulped and clenched his fist so tightly this knuckles turned white.

Bucky's exhale was shaky.

" I also um, still have your medication. If you want it back. "

Bucky huffed. " Steve, I asked for a break. Just give me a few weeks to sort something out. We're not over, okay? I'm sorry if I broke your heart, I am. I'm just not in the right situation to be the the caring boyfriend you need, and I don't want you to feel bad like you did when I distanced myself. I'm sorry, Steve. I promise I'll make it up to you. Okay? "

Steve nodded, relief flooding through him as he dismissed the little voice in his head that reminded him Bucky was being awfully formal. " Okay. " He replied, and for a while, it seemed as though things were good with him now. As though they were alright once again. As though life was back to normal.

" I love you, Bucky, " Steve blurted out.

But Bucky had already hung up, and Steve ended up saying it to the dial tone.

-

It was exactly like a horror movie, the keys turning in the lock of his door at twelve seventeen in the morning and the soft creak as the person pushed his door open.

Steve jolted upright, his pulse quickening as he slid out of bed and crept to the closed bedroom door, his hands curling into fists and his stance becoming a defensive one.

There was a thunk, and muffled swearing, and when the person pushed open the door of Steve's bedroom, Steve swung his fist forward, catching the intruder with a solid punch to the abdomen. Hands reached forwards and one grabbed Steve's wrist in a vice like grip that cut off the circulation in his hand almost instantly.

Steve opened his mouth to scream as he flipped the person over and got his knee up as the person shoved a forearm against his throat. He found that he was able to gain leverage easily, and flipped the intruder over his shoulder and slammed him onto the floor with surprising grace, his foot on the intruder's throat as he flipped the light switch.

" Bucky? " He gasped, falling to his knees as he caught sight of the brunet lying on the floor, curled in a foetal position , both hands between his legs and his face contorted in pain. He darted away and came back with an ice pack, and handed it to Bucky after carefully lifting Bucky onto his bed and tucking the blanket around him.

His heart broke for the six millionth time as he took a good look at Bucky, and tried not to wince when he saw the sleeves of Bucky's sweater were stained brown with dried blood and how gingerly he moved his wrists, and how tired he looked.

But he didn't say a single word as he poured Bucky a glass of warm water and flexed his own wrist. And then he took a seat on his armchair beside the bed and pulled on his glasses, focusing on Bucky.

And then Bucky lifted his head, and the sapphire eyes met the bronze ones for a long moment.

" i'm sorry, " Bucky whispered, " I didn't mean to wake you up. "

Steve snorted, trying to lighten the mood. But he couldn't completely diffuse the tension that lingered. " By breaking in? " He quipped, forcing a smile. Bucky didn't return it.

Steve probed again, " Then why'd you come? "

It came out like a demand, and Bucky, the ever confident, suave and cheeky Bucky, hunched his shoulders, and _cowered_. Steve reached out hesitantly, wrapping an arm around Bucky's shoulders as the brunet shifted so that they could sit on the bed together.

" You said I could. "

Bucky's voice was soft, and he leaned into Steve's touch. Steve reached out and tucked a chuck of brown hair that had fallen out of Bucky's ponytail behind his ear. Bucky's body was all solid muscles and comforting warmth, and Steve was secretly happy that he was in such close proximity.

" I don't mean to make use of you, " Bucky started, his voice shaking slightly. " I just. The last time I slept over, during Thanksgiving, I uh, I slept through the night. And I realized it was because you were holding me. And I couldn't sleep today and I'm getting desperate because the sleeping pills only knocked me out for an hour. " He explained, and then rubbed self consciously at his arms.

" I understand if you feel like I'm taking advantage of you, Steve. I'm so sorry, but I just..." Bucky broke off when Steve turned his head and pressed the gentlest of kisses on Bucky's temple. Though slightly miffed at how Bucky had broken his heart, Steve decided that he wasn't in any position to make the situation worse.

" Aren't you going to ask me questions and tell me I'm a shitty boyfriend? " Bucky asked nervously when Steve reached over and dimmed the lights to the lowest brightness and started lying down. He pondered the question carefully, his fingers combing through Bucky's hair. " Do you feel like talking about it? " He mused, punching the pillow and motioning for Bucky to lie down as well.

He complied readily and shook his head. " But if i ask, will you tell me? " Steve asked again as Bucky rolled over to his side so that he could slip an arm over his waist and bury his face into the back of Steve's neck. " Yeah, I figured you deserve that at least. " Bucky's voice was slightly muffled, and Steve smiled when he felt his nose skimming his neck.

" I won't ask, but you'll tell me someday. right? "

" Of course I will. "

Steve basked in Bucky's warm embrace, groaning quietly in pleasure when Bucky entwined their legs and drew aimless patterns on Steve's stomach. He would continue to repress that hurt and anger that remained stubbornly in his mind, Bucky didn't need more shit. He looked as though he was going through a lot of it. " I'm still angry with you. " Steve murmured as he shifted under the covers.

" I know. I don't blame you. I'm sorry, love. "

Steve wriggled out of Bucky's embrace to glare at him ( Okay, he would allow himself tonight to express his anger for five minutes. Just tonight. ), until memory of how long he'd wondered what he'd done plagued his mind, and his scowl melted into self doubt. " You broke my heart, " He said quietly, closing his eyes when tears started to form.

" I'm sorry, Steve. " Bucky's palm was cupping his cheek, but Steve pulled away.

" I spent too many days wondering what I'd done wrong. " He said, his jaw rigid with anger and his eyes moist. He'd kept everything in for too long, and for a moment, he was afraid that if he did end up pushing things too far, he'd start a fight. And he didn't want that.

And he watched as Bucky struggled for words, his chest heaving as guilt splayed across his features. And when Bucky opened his mouth to say sorry again, Steve realized that he didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear Bucky beat himself up. He didn't want Bucky to feel guilty.

So he kissed Bucky.

" I'll make it up to you. " Bucky promised as he ran a finger down Steve's chin.

" You'd better. " Steve joked.

But Bucky's finger had stopped moving, and Steve realized that the brunet had fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every end note is literally me apologizing for delayed updates HAHAH but thank you all for 3000 hits and 100 kudos!!
> 
> anyway, i'm building up the angsty part like a small and powerful army sO WHEN IT HITS Y'ALL I'M EXPECTING A LOT OF CASUALTIES HOHOHO
> 
> stay tuned! x


	23. Chapter 23

December arrived with nine inches of snow and unforgiving wind.

Steve felt almost ecstatic that things had gone back to normal, and for once, he could actually laugh properly at Tony's vulgar versions of Christmas carols ( God Rest Ye Merry Bitches was his favourite one ). Thor and Sam had also taken it upon themselves to quite literally hang tinsel over every surface of the staff room, and even Wanda wore earrings with little Christmas baubles ( Tony hooked the real big ones on his ears and forced Bucky to take a picture of them ).

Sam made dumb Christmas puns, and Bucky took pictures of everything, and Natasha and Clint wore matching reindeer antlers to school, and Thor brought a basket of candy canes for them to share, and Wanda taught them all how to dance to a Christmas song, and in spite of the freezing temperature and the howling wind, Steve had never felt warmer in his life.

-

" I'm going to introduce you to my mum and my sister during Christmas. You said your parents aren't coming down because of the weather, so would you like to join us for lunch? We could go to Tony's place immediately afterwards. " Bucky suggested lazily as he lay sprawled on the carpet of Steve's apartment, Natasha sitting on his back and Steve rolled a bauble around for Kat to fetch.

Bucky sat up suddenly and Steve burst into laughter. Natasha had woven his hair into neat little braids, and had wrapped little bits of tinsel in between the braids. " Don't take it out! " Steve said, hugging Bucky around the shoulders as Bucky rolled his eyes. He burst into giggles at the sight of Bucky scowling, and turned to Natasha, who grabbed Bucky's phone and took a picture of them, just as Bucky's facade broke and he cracked a megawatt smile that made Steve's insides melt with fondness.

-

Twenty minutes later Steve peeked at Bucky's phone and saw that Bucky had changed his wallpaper to the photo of the one Natasha had taken of them - both smiling widely, huge dorky grins on their faces, Steve's arms wrapped around Bucky's shoulders and Bucky's hair in a mess, his eyes bright and merry, gold and blue tinsel hanging off.

-

" Bucky! You never said your boyfriend was devastatingly handsome and fabulously debonair! " Steve's head jerked up as he glanced at Bucky, who was engulfing a girl about twenty in a bone crushing hug. Her caramel coloured eyes were rimmed in black, her lips were burgundy and her cheeks were pink from the cold. Steve turned as red as her lipstick.

" Rebecca, honey, please don't shout. " Steve stood up as he glimpsed a taller woman enter the kitchen wearing blue skinny jeans and a black sweater. She looked like a perfect replicate of Rebecca. She gave Steve a quick hug after he introduced himself and turned to her children, pulling apart the squabbling siblings with the effortless ease of a mother who had done this ten million times prior.

" Hello, Bucky, honey. " She said warmly, as Steve quietly wondered if Mrs Barnes had overheard what Rebecca had said. They sat down, and Steve placed lunch on the table, glancing nervously at Bucky, who was still staring daggers at Rebecca. ( She was holding his gaze calmly, one perfectly filled in eyebrow arched. )

" So? " Mrs Barnes interjected when the awkward silence between the four of them lingered longer than was socially acceptable. Steve's gaze snapped to Mrs Barnes, who was raising a perfectly drawn eyebrow at Bucky.

Another pause.

" Are you going to tell me that you're dating Steve or do I have to settle with whatever Becky said? " She probed, her lips twitching as blood visibly drained from Bucky's face.

" I'm dating Steve. " Bucky squeaked, his voice betraying how anxious he felt, and Steve looked over with an encouraging smile before squeezing his knee under the table.

" Yes. So why were you being a wimp and stalling for so long? " Steve laughed, and the tension was diffused immediately.

Maybe things weren't so bad after all.

-

" MI CASA SU - "

" Shut up, Tony, " Bucky snarled in mock anger as he darted past Tony ( elbowing the brunet in the ribs ), shivering in the cold. Steve followed behind at a more dignified pace, remembering to wish his overexcited host a Merry Christmas before picking up the tote bag full of presents and following Bucky into Tony's mansion.

There was a tree about eight feet tall in the corner of the living room, and Steve could see Bucky kneeling beneath it, pulling brightly wrapped presents out of his bag and stacking it neatly with the massive stack below the tree. Orange and purple tinsel hung off the tree, and Steve felt an inexplicable fondness for Tony's inventing skills when he saw the little ornaments bearing uncanny resemblance to each one of his colleagues. The gold star on top of the tree was spewing silver glitter in two minute intervals, and as he swivelled around to properly gape at the whole of Tony's mansion, he felt his jaw drop.

The ceilings were covered in paper chains and mistletoe, the walls were covered with red and green streamers, and there were little robots about 4 feet tall that were serving cups of eggnog and hot cocoa. Wanda was seated near the speakers, and the whole house reverberated with fast paced Christmas carols.

Steve waved to Natasha, who was dancing in the middle of the living room along with Peggy and Pepper and she halted in the midst of grinding on Clint to come over and give him a loud kiss on the cheek, and sweet Pepper offered him a tissue to clean up the lipstick on his face. ( Steve could tell she'd had one too many glasses of eggnog. )

Clint came over a few seconds later, holding out mugs of hot cocoa and handing them to Steve and Bucky. " Do you want to dance? " Bucky asked, nodding at the dance floor when the music changed from upbeat Christmas carols to something more bass-y and slow. Steve noticed the longing in Bucky's voice, but shook his head all the same, highly reluctant to show Bucky how bad he was at dancing.

When he told Bucky as such, Clint smirked and held out his palm, which Steve slapped immediately. And then Bucky and Natasha stared at each other for a beat too long before Bucky grabbed her hand and led her to the dance floor, where the two of them danced flawlessly to the beat, leaving Clint and Steve standing in the corner, sipping hot chocolate spiked with vodka. Or some other alcohol that Steve did not want to think about.

" They dance good. " Steve mused, watching as Bucky's hands found themselves on Natasha's hips and she closed her eyes before they began to move in step, both of them laughing loudly. Clint nodded in agreement as he yanked a bar of chocolate off the Christmas tree and popped a piece into his mouth, chewing loudly and finishing the last of his alcoholic hot chocolate.

" Have Bucky and Natasha dated? " Steve blurted out before he could stop himself when the twinge of jealousy got the better on him after noticing that Natasha's back was now against Bucky's chest, and their hips were moving in a highly suggestive way. The brunet looked especially gorgeous, hair hanging in his eyes, his mouth parted slightly.

Clint followed his gaze and rolled his eyes. " Steve, Bucky is Natasha's second best friend. He's the reason why I'm married to her and she's the reason why Bucky's not dead. And to answer your question, no, they've never dated. But Natasha tells me my dick is longer than Bucky's. " Clint ended with a guffaw as he glanced at his wife, appearing completely unconcerned at the fact that she now had both arms around Bucky's neck.

Steve managed a smile, thankful that Sam had appeared out of nowhere and asked them for help unpacking his massive sack of presents. Steve glimpsed a large box in silver wrapping paper bearing his name on a lovely lilac card, and secretly prayed that it was not the condoms Sam had threatened to buy him. Or the lingerie. Or anything that Sam could think of that was extremely sexual and inappropriate.

" Clint. Bathroom. " Natasha and Bucky had reappeared, their faces flushed and eyes bright. Clint stood up slowly and raised an eyebrow as Bucky helped Natasha adjust her bra strap. " I'm horny. Bucky grinds really well. So we're going to have sex in the bathroom now. " She ordered,  snagging a cup of eggnog and taking a long sips, as Steve's cheeks flamed red and Bucky snorted, draping an arm casually over Steve's shoulder and pulling the shorter blond close to him.

" Seriously? " Sam spluttered as Clint allowed himself to be dragged away after making finger guns at the rest of them, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Steve felt Bucky rest his chin on his shoulder and turned to Bucky to say something before Sam interjected with a " NOT YOU TWO AS WELL ".

Steve's cheeks flamed red again as Bucky winked at Sam suggestively, but was unable to say something for Tony had appeared with Pepper in tow, his shirt collar stained with Pepper's pink lipstick and Pepper's neck covered in hickeys. " What? " Tony asked Sam, before shaking his shoulders at Steve, who was openly gaping at his shirt.

" Nat and Clint are in your bathroom. " Bucky interjected with an evil smile as the face splitting grin on Tony's face melted into one of utmost horror. Steve looked from Bucky to Tony to Sam in confusion until Pepper said in between giggles, that they'd broken the toilet seat last Christmas in the exact same situation.

Steve's face turned a wonderful shade of puce, and then all five of them were laughing again.

-

Bucky stopped dead in the middle of the hallway and let go of Steve's hand. His face was tinged pink from dancing, his hair was a huge mess and Steve could easily see the mischievous spark in his eyes. He'd yet to find out why Bucky had dragged him to a hallway, but resisted asking.

" Mistletoe. " Bucky whispered, pointing at the plant hanging above their heads and Steve's face turned pink with realisation. His back was pressed against the wall, and his heart started beating erratically as Bucky cupped Steve's neck with one arm, the other sliding around his waist. Steve's eyelids fluttered close as he buried his hands in Bucky's silky hair, his breath hitching as though it was their first time all over again.

He could smell Bucky's cologne, and up close with their foreheads touching, Steve could see Bucky's pupils all dilated, his lids half closed. His mouth quirked up as he smiled, tugging Bucky's hair gently. The brunet leaned forward, their breaths mingling and Steve tilted his head so he could kiss Bucky.

" May I kiss you? "

Bucky's voice was a soft whisper, his nose almost touching Steve's, and Steve's heart felt warm as though someone had poured a whole jar of honey into it. They'd kissed so many times, but whenever Bucky asked if he could kiss Steve, it always, always made Steve feel he was floating on clouds.

" Of course. "

And then Steve was still smiling when Bucky pressed his lips gently to Steve's, his body forming a shield around Steve as he leaned against the wall for support, the result of Bucky's kisses making Steve go weak at the knees. His hand ran up and down the smooth fabric of Bucky's shirt, and he pulled Bucky closer, wanting to feel the solid warmth of body heat press against him for the rest of his life.

His mind was spinning as Bucky's tongue darted out and traced a careful line on his bottom lip, and with a needy gasp he couldn't quite contain, he parted his lips like he always did, and then his mind fizzled with the sensations that were beginning to take over his body. Bucky tasted like sugar and eggnog and cherries and Steve tried desperately to memorise the taste of this combination, the taste of Bucky's kisses, the taste of Bucky himself.

And a thigh was rubbing gently between his legs, and Steve felt his body respond accordingly as Bucky's thigh moved skilfully between his own. It wasn't his fault that he'd been half hard the whole night, finding Bucky's flushed face a lot more attractive than usual.

When Bucky broke away to kiss a slow careful line down Steve's throat, the blond shuddered and cried out when Bucky's thigh was replaced by the slow movement of his hips, his equally aroused body pressed against Steve's as he ran a hand down the side of Steve's waist to rest on his ass and Steve groaned, jerking his hips forward as he heard Bucky's quiet laughter.

" B-Bucky..." 

Bucky's movements increased in speed and intensity and Steve leaned against the wall for support as Bucky's mouth found his again, and the two of them made out in a darkened hallway with increased fervour and enthusiasm. Steve was gripping tightly onto Bucky's shirt, and he was sure Bucky had ruined the hair he'd spent thirty minutes styling. Not that he minded. This felt too good, too good to -

" _Oi_! You two! "

Bucky actually groaned in frustration as he slid off Steve, to see Natasha standing a few metres away, holding her phone out and raising an eyebrow at them. There was simply no denying what they were doing, and the fact that Steve had a boner and was leaning against a wall for support more or less emphasised the assumption. And Bucky was breathing heavily. It was turning Steve on. A lot more than he'd expected heavy breathing to.

What made things possibly worse, was everyone appearing as if on cue and peeking over at both Bucky and Steve, who probably looked like a deer caught in headlights. Bucky flipped Natasha off as he slid his palm into Steve's and the both of them left the hallway with the rest of them.

Sam coughed.

" Uh, you both have uh, a downstairs situation. "

Wanda snickered.

" You can both go and um, finish in the um, bathroom. " 

Tony gagged.

" No, if you want to have sex, do it in your own house. I don't want to use the toilet and be plagued by horrible mental images"

And then he glared at Natasha with someone who looked like they had a murderous intent.

Steve also stared daggers at Natasha, who straightened her wrinkled dress with an innocent smile and not so subtly readjusted her collar to hide the line of hickeys at her neck.

-

" You missed the turning. Your apartment is in that direction. " Steve said, confused as Bucky drove straight instead of turning left. It was two in the morning, and the reason why everyone was leaving was because Pepper had insisted everyone switch their vodkas and wines for waters.

Bucky turned to Steve, smiling cockily as he pulled up in front of a posh building, its soft honey coloured lamps illuminating the driveway. Bucky got out, dropped the keys to the valet, and opened Steve's door. Steve climbed out, slightly bemused but the plush red carpet below his feet was undeniably soft, even with shoes on. He could see an ice sculpture on the entrance and when the doors were held open for both Bucky and he, Steve could hear the tinkle of someone playing the grand piano in the lobby.

" I booked us a room for tonight. " Bucky smiled down at Steve, placing a hand at the small of his back to guide him up the steps of polished marble.

Steve was still dazed as Bucky led him to the lifts immediately, pulling out a card from his jacket pocket and smiling at Steve before the jabbing the button on the elevator. " I got you something for Christmas, but I just wanted to spend a night with you in full luxury, " Bucky explained as Steve made a pleased sound at the aesthetic lift lobby and ran a gentle finger over the vase of orchids in a pristine white colour.

" Thank you, Bucky. " Steve murmured, his eyes watering with gratitude.

Bucky led him into the lift and hit the button for the thirty fourth floor.

" You're welcome. "

And then Steve reached over and yanked Bucky close so that he could press a hungry kiss to Bucky's lips, his hands gripping Bucky's hair with a new strength he almost regretted until Bucky _moaned_ in his mouth and Steve was getting hard again.

Bucky's right hand pinned both of Steve's  to the ceiling, Steve offering no resistance except the occasional jerk of his hips as Bucky's left hand disappeared south and palmed Steve through his jeans.

He could already feel how damp the front of his jeans were, and let out a strangled hiss as Bucky suddenly twisted his wrist and then Steve felt that if Bucky kept this up for another ten seconds, he would come and -

" _Thirty fourth floor_ "

Steve swore loudly as Bucky pulled away and the doors opened, leaving his body aching for more as Bucky laughed and pulled him along a long corridor, all dim lighting and velvet covered walls.

Bucky slid the card smoothly in the card holder of a mahogany door and Steve pushed open the heavy wood before stopping dead in his tracks and his jaw slammed onto the ground.

_Bucky had spent a fortune._

The floor was carpeted in a rich maroon colour, and the walls were a soothing off white colour, the heavy brocade curtains tied back with braided golden strings. There was a low sofa, all dark red leather and there was a porcelain vase with fresh calla lilies on top of the fireplace, where a fire was cackling merrily, throwing little orange sparks and bathing the room in a warm, rosy glow. The deal : the massive four poster in the corner, with plump white pillows and a velvet comforter with an intricate pattern embossed in silver and gold thread. The posters were engraved wood, each one polished to a shine, and in the corner there was a silk bag out potpourri, giving the room a pleasant lavender scent. The curtains were half drawn, half hanging, making the bed seem extremely enticing. And when Steve peeked into the toilet he was blown away yet again by the rainfall shower and hot tub the size of his own bathroom. There were towels on heated racks and someone ( perhaps the staff on Bucky's inst ructions ), had filled the tub and strewn rose petals in it. Steve even spied candles littered around, and three different types of bath salts stood ready at the edge of the tub. The tiles were a rose gold colour, and the marble gave it one of the most aesthetic effects Steve had ever seen in his life.

" Wow, " Steve gasped, whirling around after he'd examined every nook and cranny of the room and staring at Bucky, who was staring at him expectantly. " Do you like it? " Bucky asked, gnawing on his thumbnail, seizing Steve up as the blond tried not to cry. Steve couldn't trust himself to speak, but he barrelled into Bucky's arms and pulled the brunet into a rib cracking hug to express the smallest fraction of his gratitude.

 " We should probably put this room to good use, " Bucky said suggestively, undoing the buttons on his shirt one by one as his pupils showed a hint of dilation.

" I'm not going to complain. "

Bucky yanked off his shirt so hard a button hit Steve on the toe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone!
> 
> i decided to update again because the next ten or so days will be extremely hectic for me - i'm working almost every day HAHA. i think y'all know what will happen after this ( yes, smut. yes. i'm very predictable. )
> 
> thank you for all your support. 
> 
> x


	24. Chapter 24

Steve would never tire from the sight of Bucky's chiseled body, warm and still damp from the bath, or the smell of Bucky's hair after he showered, the smell of soap and something else that screamed _Bucky_ , or the sound of Bucky's quiet gasps and whimpered moans when Steve let his hands wander over Bucky's exposed torso, or the taste of Bucky's lips, cherries and eggnog and the minty toothpaste he always used, whenever Bucky would tilt his chin up and give Steve a spine tingling kiss, or the feeling of Bucky's beating heart when Steve rested his palm over Bucky's exposed chest and enjoyed the feeling of Bucky's skin - blemish free and smooth, beneath his hand.

And when Bucky's hands made contact with Steve's shoulders and the blond was pushed backwards gently on the bed, Steve gazed up at Bucky who was towering over him, eyes hooded and breathing even.

He leaned up and brought Bucky's lips to his own, exhaling in pleasure and groaning when Bucky nipped at his bottom lip, the feeling sending blood rushing to his groin. Bucky was balancing his weight on his knees and elbows, but Steve could still hear his erection press against his stomach, and reached down so that he could stroke Bucky's length, the short wiry curls still damp from their bath.

Bucky whimpered, but he pulled away reluctantly. " Stevie? " He began tentatively, chest rising and falling as he scrubbed a hand over his eyes and turning away from Steve. And Steve knew why.

He'd rejected both of Bucky's sexual advances since Thanksgiving, pushing Bucky away and feeling immensely guilty. Bucky, to his credit, remembered his promise to take things at Steve's pace, didn't allow a single word of complaint to escape his lips or let his frustration show on his face. Steve suspected Bucky secretly enjoyed the hell Steve was putting him through, stretching patience to the essence of the word.

" I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push you, " Bucky stammered, mistaking Steve's silence for refusal.

Steve said nothing, choosing to crawl into Bucky's lap and straddle him, kissing him as suggestively as he could, trying to convey his consent without saying anything. Bucky tilted Steve's chin upwards. " Are you sure? " He breathed, a dark lock of hair falling into his eyes.

Steve nodded.

And then Bucky suddenly pressed his forehead to Steve's, looking for all the world like a man starved of attention and care. With Steve's permission, Bucky wasted no time in pulling Steve closer to him. Steve tipped his head back and groaned when Bucky not so gently bit down on his collarbone, trailing his sinful lips upwards and then meeting Steve's again, this time sloppy and messy, delirious with need and want.

And then Steve fell on his back again, Bucky hovering over him in all his shirtless glory and cocky smirks. He inhaled sharply and allowed his gaze to travel downwards to his dick, full and leaking, standing up proudly from his hips. He met Bucky's gaze with a bashful smile, which vanished immediately when Bucky started stroking him expertly, feeling so raw and _so_ good.

Moaning at the back of his throat, Steve bucked up into the brunet's grip, feeling and relishing in the friction of his palm against his length. Already his legs were feeling as though they were burning, and his abdomen contracted painfully, and his toes curled as tight as knots. Already the fire was building up in all of his veins, and his dick was twitching painfully and pulses were throbbing incessantly in his groin.

" Steve..." Bucky said, a teasing lilt in his voice as Steve's back arched off the bed and covering Bucky's hand in precome. " Professor Barnes, " Steve said as sternly as he could, despite the fact that he was totally under Bucky's mercy, " Please stop teasing. "

Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky shifted so that Steve was lying on his back, his legs spread obscenely wide, blissfully un-self conscious. He flexed his ankles slightly as Bucky fently lifted his legs onto his shoulders and lean forward so that the blond was almost folded in half. Steve held his break as Bucky rocked forward, feeling as vulnerable as he did during their first time.

His gasps must have sounded like he was on the verge of an asthma attack, for Bucky leaned downwards and pressed a kiss to Steve's forehead, a signal to double check that Steve was okay. " Stop...teasing..." Steve grunted, jerking his hips forward impatiently, and Bucky finally started moving. With hesitant little ruts, Bucky started pushing in, and Steve embraced the pain as Bucky broke past the resistance of his muscles with excruciating yet pleasurable slowness.

Breathing heavily, Steve let go of the pillow below his head to tighten his fingers in Bucky's hair, giving full control to the brunet as he lay there and battled an orgasm that was almost at breaking point. The ache he'd felt when Bucky first penetrated him was lost completely, leaving a red hot thrill running up Steve's spine as Bucky started thrusting, his movements slow and unhurried. His body was trembled with over stimulation as Bucky rocked deeper and deeper, forehead scrunched in concentration as he searched for Steve's prostrate, the small bundle of nerves that would send him spiraling into a pleasure induced scream.

Pressing both elbows onto the bed, Steve gave himself leverage so that he could meet Bucky's thrusts, his impatience and eagerness only making the brunet smile coyly, his hips never picking up pace as he stretched the torture for Steve.

They never spoke, save the occasional pleas of _harder_ and _faster_ , their quiet groans increasing in volume and morphing into whimpered cries that Bucky and Steve didn't bother to muffle. If Steve wasn't focusing on using every ounce of energy to thrust harder against Bucky's hips, he would have felt mildly embarrassed at his moans, increasing in pitch as Bucky's cock brushed against his prostrate and made his back arch upwards as pleasure flooded his body like a wave.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by Bucky's thrusts and getting impossibly more aroused by Bucky's panting, ragged and uneven. Already he could feel his insides melting and his pulse quickening, his thighs burning with impending release as he rocked backwards onto Bucky in frantic thrusts.

Getting frustrated at Bucky's refusal to speed things up, Steve forced himself upright and flipped over so that he was on all fours, practically _begging_ Bucky to ram into him right there and then. " Fuck me _please_ , Professor Barnes. " Steve whimpered, his arms quivering in anticipation and he felt Bucky re position himself.

Bucky finally complied after sixty billion years, and Steve let out a choked cry as the brunet slammed home with a strangled hiss, on hand bracing himself on Steve's hips, the other reaching forward to stroke Steve's length. Steve was sure at the rate he was going, the tender pace Bucky had set was long forgotten. Both of them wanted release, and they wanted it now.

Steve could feel Bucky's sweaty skin pressing against his back as they both grunted and moaned as though they were in a porno, both of them succumbing to their own desires and thrusting against each other frantically. With a hiss of delight, Steve was flipped over and Bucky literally flung both of Steve's thighs over his shoulders and started jackhammering with renewed vigour.

And then Steve leaned upwards and wrapped his lips around Bucky's left nipple, sucking gently and nipping lightly before scraping his teeth over the bud. Above him, Steve could hear Bucky's breathing catch in his throat as his hips picked up pace and rocked deeper and deeper into Steve. " _Auun!!"_ Bucky moaned low in his throat. He rocked his hips forward, fucking up into Steve' body with renewed enthusiasm until the two of them could feel the bedding shuddering beneath them. "Oh fuck, yeah, do that again!"

Steve could see his boyfriend's figure shaking above him. Steve twirled and twisted his tongue over the bud again, before sucking hard on it to let his teeth pinch it just slightly, rotating between gentleness and the rough movement of his teeth that Bucky seemed to enjoy. He was rewarded with Bucky's cream of pleasure, and the feeling of his dick slamming into his prostate once again, making Steve fall back onto the shaking bed, his breaths coming out in wet pants.

" S-steve... I'm a-...." Bucky gasped as Steve jerked his hips upwards.

Steve stared at Bucky through hooded eyes, knowing what he would say would definitely tip Bucky over the edge.

" Come for me, Professor Barnes. "

And for a moment, when Bucky's body bucked wildly above Steve's, and the blond could feel hot seed spill into his body as Bucky screamed his climax, his body twitching and shuddering madly. And then Bucky's hand was wrapped around Steve's length as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, up into his fist, down against his length, Steve was completely at a mind numbing loss. He was going to explode. He was going to die.

Bucky's voice was a low growl when he shouted Steve's name, and with a strangled shout, Steve seized up beneath Bucky's body. With a wail of over stimulation, he came , painting his seed across Bucky's chest this time. He screamed and screamed, arching into the pleasure until he was bowed back against the bed, contorted in the throes of his bliss. He had no idea which way was up or down anymore, and simply held tightly to Bucky's body as his body pulsed and throbbed with the waves of his bliss.

When his release finally subsided, Steve allowed his head to fall back onto the pillow as Bucky pulled out and brushed Steve's sweaty hair out of his eyes. Somehow during the entire process, the curtains had fallen shut, and the bed was illuminated by soft orange lighting, casting dramatic shadows across Bucky's face as the brunet openly gawked at Steve's body, his chest flushed and his legs spread obscenely wide, one on each side of Bucky's waist.

He tried to sit up so that they could go and take another shower, but the phantom feeling of Bucky's cock inside him, the burn of friction... hell, his whole body was exhausted. He groaned, slumping back against the bedding to stare up at the ceiling.

" I think you have a Professor Barnes kink going on there, or is it a fetish? " Steve teased, hobbling into the bathroom with Bucky in tow. The brunet turned on the shower, and Steve groaned at the hot water that immediately relaxed all the tension building up in his muscles.

Bucky laughed quietly, as Steve was pinned to the wall and Bucky kissed him deeply, one hand in Steve's hair, the other cupping his neck. When he pulled away, he was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

" I think I have a Steve Rogers fetish. " Bucky said, in all seriousness.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL it's come to my attention ( thanks, jun. ) that apparently it hURTS LIKE HELL WHEN YOU DON'T FINGER SOMEONE BEFORE YOUR GENITALS PENETRATE THEM BUT I DELETED THE FINGERING PART BECAUSE IT MADE ME SUPER UNCOMFORTABLE WHEN I WAS READING IT lmao
> 
> thank you for 3.3k hits!
> 
> x


	25. Chapter 25

Steve was entirely disoriented when a palm collided with his cheek and sent a wave of pain zinging through his face. He jerked himself into a sitting position and squinted in the semi darkness just in time to see Bucky's thrashing figure still for half a second before his fist came swinging, and Steve ducked just in time, feeling the brunet's fist graze the top of his hair.

Steve immediately leaped onto Bucky and tried to pin him down as Bucky struggled violently and let out a pained whimper. His handsome face was streaked with tears as Steve alternated with trying to pin Bucky down and wake him up to no avail.

" Please...I'll do anything...No..."

" _Bucky_! "

Steve's heart gave a throb when Bucky erupted into fresh tears and his voice cracked painfully. Bucky was jerking his hips, trying to push Steve off, begging for mercy, and as a last resort, Steve swung his palm so that it hit Bucky's arm hard.

The brunet woke up with a strangled cry, forehead colliding with Steve's as he struggled to even out his breathing and pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Steve said nothing, quietly pressing the pad of both thumbs to Bucky's cheeks and wiping away his tears.

Bucky was still crying.

His hazel eyes took a few seconds to focus on Steve's and when they finally did, his shoulders sagged in relief. Steve pulled him closer, still sitting on the brunet's lap and pressed the back of his head onto his own shoulder so that Bucky could cry everything out. Bucky's chest was pressed against Steve's, and he could feel Bucky's heartbeat, fast as a hummingbird's wings and thumping erratically.

And he cried. Steve didn't ask any questions, only rubbed Bucky's back and murmured sweet nothings into his ear, rocking his shaking boyfriend gently as Bucky drenched Steve's shirt in tears, hiccoughing more times than Steve could count. Steve kept a hand wrapped around Bucky's waist and moved the other hand up to stroke Bucky's hair, all the while murmuring " it's okay " and hushing Bucky gently.

And he repeated his actions and words over and over and over and over and over and over until Bucky's sobs subsided and his heartbeat slowed and the wet patch on his shirt dried. " Bucky? " He asked tentatively. No reply. Steve carefully shifted so that he was lying back down on the bed, with Bucky's head tucked into his neck and his body over Steve's. He didn't know if it made Bucky feel safer when the both of them were in this position, and it was his number one priority to make his boyfriend feel as safe and secure as possible.

The lights were still dimmed, and the curtains cast soft shadows over Bucky's face, youthful as he lay asleep on Steve's chest.

" I'm sorry, " Bucky whispered after a long silence in which Steve continued to rub soothing circles into his back.

The blond smiled, though Bucky couldn't possibly see it. " 'S alright, Bucky. "

And when Bucky finally drifted off, comforted by Steve's arms, the blond very quietly said aloud to his sleeping boyfriend, " I love you, Bucky. "

-

The red curtains, while beautiful, did not do much when hiding the morning sun, and Steve found himself awakened by a glare of light seeping through a crack in the curtains and cooking his face.

He glanced down, where Bucky was still curled up on top of him, and stroked his hair gently. He glanced at Bucky's hand, intertwined with his own and carefully noted the deep red scratches that ran horizontally on his wrist. Bucky had allowed Steve to bandage his arms a grand total of four times ( each time with decreasing amount of reluctance ), and now, as Steve slid out of the bed, careful not to wake Bucky, Steve was going to make it the fifth time.

He crept to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and despite the lingering unease regarding Bucky's vivid nightmares, his constant self harming and the increased consumption of anxiety medication and antidepressants, Steve managed to smile at the line of hickeys down his throat.

He picked up the first aid kit in the cabinet below the sink and climbed back into bed, where Bucky was still fast asleep, snuggled deep into the blankets and snoring quietly.

With the practiced caution of someone who was used to doing something like this, Steve lifted one of Bucky's mutilated wrists and left it on his lap, rooting around the first aid kit for bandages, pushing away a small packet of painkillers and cough medication before he found what he was searching for.

He had just pressed a kiss on the inside of Bucky's wrist and laid it back down when he noticed Bucky was waking up - the slight change in his breathing, the flutter of his unfairly long eyelashes and the wriggling of his toes.

" ...tevie? "

Steve smiled, wrapping the second wrist with meticulous caution. " Right here, " he replied cheerfully, choosing not to acknowledge Bucky's nightmare. " Feelin' sore from last night? " He joked as Bucky rubbed his eyes with the bandaged arm. Steve finished wrapping the second arm just in time to see Bucky, slightly more awake, squint at the clean white bandages on his wrist. His lips curved into a half smile.

" You wish, " Bucky shot back, his eyes conveying how grateful he was at Steve's lack of acknowledgement of his nightmare. He scrutinised the careful bandaging and smiled at Steve before pulling Steve back onto the bed and burying his face into the pillow.

" Does it hurt? " Steve asked. pressing his kiss onto the neglected arm and putting it over his heart.

Bucky chewed his lip and broke eye contact so he could roll onto his back and gaze at the canopy above them. " Kinda makes the pain lessen, if you get me. " He said, pointedly avoiding Steve's gaze as the blond tried to come up with a way to say he loved Bucky without making it seem like a pity statement or some kind of shitty consolation for whatever was bothering the brunet. Because he didn't want it to be a pity statement. He didn't want the three words to sound like he was saying them because he didn't actually know what to say. He wanted them to mean something. He wanted them to mean a lot.

He kept silent in the end, because he simply didn't know how to say it out loud.

-

" I'm going to tell Bucky today. "

" No, you're just going to chicken out. "

" Natasha. Some support would be nice. "

" Just go for it and don't cry. "

" Thanks Natty. "

" You owe me twenty dollars if you chicken out. "

 

Natasha bought Steve a burger and some fries with the twenty dollars he slapped in her palm the next day.

-

" I'm going to - "

" - tell Bucky i love him, oh my god, wow finally I'm going to tell Natasha that I've grown the balls to confess my love, oh wait, i'm going to chicken out and not say it again oh wow tell me how it doesn't end up, steeby, i'll be so excited to hear Bucky's reaction to a confession that you won't say, damn it, Steve I'm so excited! "

" i hate you. "

" no, you don't. "

-

" I didn't tell - "

" STEVE ROGERS! you _swore_ you would tell him on new years. you swore up, down, left, right, backwards and in every direction that you would confess after y'all kissed after the countdown. What the hell happened to you? "

" I didn't know how to say it without making it seem random. "

" You useless sack of shit, nothing about this statement is random. "

" sorry Nat, I just - "

-

" you didn't tell him did you? "

" hello to you t- "

" ANSWER THE QUESTION. "

" jeez, there's no need to scream into - "

" TELL ME RIGHT NOW. "

" I didn't tell - "

" Fuck you. You gonna grow the balls in 2049? "

-

" Nat, please don't hang up on me. I couldn't bring myself to just - "

-

" You've been ignoring me for six days. Come on, Natasha - "

-

" I'm going to tell him today. I have a dozen red roses and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. And I even planned a speech. " Steve said, balancing the roses on his arm and holding the bottle of wine so that he could hold his phone better.

He'd been planning his valentines' day surprise with Natasha for two weeks, cutting back on hanging out with Bucky so he could build up the impact of his surprise ( Thanks, Nat. )

" Great, " Natasha replied sincerely, she'd cut back a lot on her sarcasm and rudeness and snide remarks after Steve had broken down in nervous tears when she cornered him. " Do you want me to hang up so you can practice? "

Steve shook his head and made a disapproving sound. " Keep my mind off this topic. If you hang out I'd overthink and drop the wine. "

Natasha laughed, a confident and musical sound that made Steve relax marginally. He clamped the phone between his cheek and shoulder so he could wipe his sweaty palm onto his pants.

Bucky's apartment had never looked so intimidating, and Steve bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for the elevator, Natasha reassuring him over the phone.

" I'm going to do this, Nat. " Steve said, heart hammering wildly as he stepped out of the lift, his heart thumping frantically and his pulse quickening. He was going to say it. He was finally going to tell Bucky he loved him. He was going to confess to Bucky. He was going to do it at last." Okay I'm at his front d- "

Steve stopped dead in his tracks at the unfamiliar pair of shoes lying outside the door.

" What? Steve? "

" There are shoes. Not Bucky's. Outside the house. "

Steve was probably overreacting, it could be a plumber coming to check on Bucky's toilet, or perhaps a visit from a distant relative. But his front door was left _ajar_ , something that _never_ happened. Bucky never forgot to lock the doors. It was more likely for him to get eaten by a plant than for him to forget to lock the door.

Natasha's sharp intake of breath jolted Steve back into reality.

" I need you, " Natasha said, slowly and clearly, enunciating every word. " To describe the shoes. In vivid detail. If there's a thread hanging off, I want to know. Tell me. Now. And do not enter the house. I repeat, " Her voice was low and deadly. " Do. Not. Enter. The. House. "

Steve glanced at the shoes in confusion, dread pooling in his stomach.

" They're loafers. Um, the same colour as the belt you bought for me last week. And the shoe laces are black. A bit frayed. Um, the shoes don't have socks in them, so I'm guessing the person didn't take off the socks. "

If Steve didn't feel terrified a few minutes before, he certainly did now. Natasha's gasp and muffled swearing was enough to cause bile to rise up at the back of his throat. " I'm coming over. Put the wine and the flowers somewhere, and remember how your right hook is stronger than your kicks. "

-

Steve left the flowers and the bottle of wine on the shoe cabinet beside the door. Blood was rushing his ears, and his heart was thumping three times its usual rate. Natasha would be here in approximately eight minutes, but Steve wasted no time in sneaking past the darkened living room.

 _Thump_.

Steve's ears pricked up and he stood still as a statue, neck craned.

The unmistakable sound of Bucky's _whimper_.

And the strangled growl of a groan.

And suddenly everything fell into place with a solid click. The shoes at the door. Bucky's secretiveness. The sounds coming from -

Bucky's room.

-

Steve shoved the door open, and the wood crashed against the wall with a solid bang.

And he got all the visual confirmation he needed.

Bucky was on the bed, his legs were spread open wide.

His pants were lying on the _floor_.

He was completely naked.

And there was a man, significantly older.

He was thrusting into Bucky.

" B-bucky? What t-the hell? " Steve spluttered, blinking hard as his brain tried to process the scene of a significantly older man kneeling in between Bucky's legs, his length still inside of Bucky, his gaze calmly turned to Steve. There was no other reaction from him besides the fact that he was now leering at the blond.

Anger coursed through him, igniting his veins as he let go of the doorknob and took in the condom wrapper on the floor, the fact that the stranger had calmly withdrawn from Bucky and was now putting on his clothes.

" Who are you? " Steve asked, coldly, tossing Bucky his clothes, choosing to channel his anger towards the stranger first. Bucky would get hell from him later. The stranger leered at Steve, showing off a row of yellowed teeth.

" The next time I ask again, I will do it after breaking your arm. " Steve seethed, pressing a hand to the stranger's throat and slamming him roughly against the wall.

" Who are you, and why are you fucking my boyfriend? "

Steve's finger's tightened around the stranger's throat as he continued to leer at Steve, before ogling at Bucky's naked chest. Steve's fist collided with the stranger's abdomen.

" My name is Alexander Pierce. "

The name didn't ring any bells in Steve's head, but he slammed another punch, this time on the stranger's jaw. He felt a grim satisfaction as blood began seeping through his lip, then ducked expertly as Alexander swung his fist before bringing his knee up in one swift motion so that the man was bent double, wheezing and panting.

" I asked two questions. "

Steve was consumed by a murderous rage as he shoved the man so that he was on his stomach, then put his right leg over his back so that he could lean down and whisper the question into his ear. Years of martial art training had given him a coldly, functioning mind. And he found that he was able to grasp the situation, act fast and think about what he needed to do.

No response.

Steve twisted Alexander's arm and after hearing the yelp of pain, smiled coldly. He was fully prepared to injure if necessary.

To Steve: " Why don't you ask your _boyfriend_ instead? "

To Bucky: " That was a really good fuck session, babe. "

Steve's concentration broke when he turned around and glimpsed Bucky, fully clothed, staring miserably at his shaking hands. He didn't miss the hard look on the brunet's face, nor the stubborn set of his shoulders.

Alexander took the opportunity to shove Steve off balance and make an unusually fast beeline for the door, and Steve, swearing, jumped up and made to follow him, only to find him forced back into the room with a knife at his throat.

Natasha's eyes were fire, and she expertly raised a knee in blinding speed, forcing him to the floor, the knife never leaving his throat as she leaned down, pressing the blade to his neck.

Steve had never been so glad to see blood shed in his life. He was too angry to register the violent thoughts clouding his mind, but he relished in the satisfaction when Alexander Pierce allowed a flicker of nervousness to cloud his eyes when Natasha kicked the door shut, her eyes never once leaving the man in front of her.

" What are you doing here, Pierce? " Natasha questioned, her voice a quiet snarl as she forced Alexander into a corner, pressing the heel of her stiletto into his thigh as she applied the slightest increase of pressure onto the knife.

Steve expected a confession. Steve expected the man to run. Steve expected the man to fight Natasha. Steve expected the man to glare at Natasha. Steve expected the man to leer at Natasha as he had done with Steve. Steve expected the man to be surprised when Natasha knew his name.

However, what Steve didn't expect was for the man to raise and eyebrow and grin, a grin that sent shivers down Steve's spine. Recognition was all over the man's face, and he seemed almost relaxed, despite the steady trickle of blood at his adam's apple.

And when Alexander Pierce spoke, his voice was normal, almost conversational.

" Hello, Natasha Alianovna Barton. "

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my updates are so irregular lmao i'd be pissed if i was one of the readers but anyway here is the next chapter!!
> 
> everything from here onwards basically goes to shit ( thanks pierce ) HAHAHA i'll try to update more often buuuuuut i make no promises because 1. i just registered for school and 2. work is crazy. thank you for sticking with me throughout anyway.
> 
> x


	26. Chapter 26

 Alexander Pierce could sprint.

Both Steve and Natasha couldn't catch him when he decided to run ( somehow able to catch both Steve and the redhead off guard ), and seemed to have simply vanished into the emergency exit, but Natasha calmly collected the blood on the knife with a piece of cotton wool and put it carefully into a plastic Ziploc bag, along with a tape recorder she'd hidden in her bra before pulling out her phone and dialling the police, her expression stormy, her eyebrows contracted so that she had uncanny resemblance of a hawk.

They said nothing as they returned to Bucky's apartment, Steve venting a small fraction of his anger by knocking the bouquet of roses to the floor as they entered Bucky's room, where Bucky was still seated, staring at a condom wrapper, his face an emotionless mask, shoulders tense, his eyebrows contracted.

" What happened? " Steve asked, not entirely able to mask the anger in his voice, but stuffing his shaking fists into his pocket. The adrenaline that came from beating Pierce up was still causing through his veins, and for a moment, he wanted nothing more than to vent his anger on Bucky.

Silence.

Steve inhaled sharply and glared. " So you're not even going to try to deny that you were cheating? " He spluttered, his fury rendering him speechless as he resisted the urge to smash something into a pulp or set the world on fire.

" It wasn't how it looked like..." Bucky's voice was a croak, his hair was sticking to his sweaty face, and his fingers were clenched into fists..

If circumstances weren't so tense, Steve would have laughed. The statement from Bucky was literally a line from every guilty person caught cheating. And Steve was almost shaking with anger at the audacity Bucky had to cheek him like this.

" Yes, " He began, voice uneven because of his fury. " Because I didn't catch you with your pants on the fucking  _floor_ , and his dick in you. "

Bucky turned to Natasha, a pleading look on his face.

" He did it again... I couldn't stop him. I don't know why. Nat, you have to believe me. I didn't cheat on Steve. " Bucky said, his eyes filling with tears as he stood up and turned to Natasha, whose face was crumpling as she put her phone into her pocket.

" James. " Steve's voice was sharp, and he felt a small flicker of satisfaction when Bucky winced.

" I wasn't cheating on you, " Bucky said, reaching for Steve's hand.

Steve had never felt so utterly shocked in his life. Bucky was denying what Steve had saw, Bucky was asking Natasha to be on his side. He shoved Bucky away from him and picked up the foil wrapper before flinging it at Bucky, who flinched again.

" "  _I wasn't cheating on you? " "_ Steve mimicked, gesturing to the condom wrapper on the floor. " You were naked, Bucky. There are goddamn condoms. On the floor. And this is all you can say? " His voice broke as anger suddenly left him, leaving him crushed with disappointment. His throat seemed to be closing up, and his chest rose and fell rapidly.

" Did we not have enough sex to fulfil your desires? Needed someone to help you with that? " Steve asked, trying to sound angry but his voice shook with upset at Bucky's betrayal and his vision was blurry with tears.

" Steve, what happened wasn't my fault, " Bucky said, sounding thoroughly crushed when Steve furiously swiped at an errant tear that slid down his cheek. The brunet seemed to be faced with some sort of internal struggle, and Natasha squeezed Bucky's shoulder tightly.

Steve laughed then, a horrible, bitter sound that made Natasha twitch. He had nothing left to say. He couldn't be angry at Bucky. He couldn't win this fight. Even Natasha was on his side. Natasha opened her mouth, standing directly in front of Steve in case he wanted to lunge at Bucky. " Steve, " She began hesitantly, " We can explain. Whatever happened was truly not Bucky's doing. "

Steve's jaw dropped in shock as his mind struggled to process that Natasha was  _defending Bucky_. " Explain, " He challenged, struggling to maintain his poker face while his heart gave another painful throb. Deep inside he desperately craved for  _one_ reason,  _any_ reason, that could pass of Bucky's act as something that wasn't his fault. Just one reason. Even if it was utter bullshit, Steve would accept it. He wanted Bucky to fight or their relationship. 

Bucky shook his head at Natasha, a lock of hair falling into his tear filled eyes. " I don't want to tell him. "

Steve expected Natasha to force Bucky to confess anyway, but when she turned and enveloped him in a bone crushing hug, Steve knew that he was doomed. There was no way that he would ever get anything from Bucky once Natasha was on his side.

With nothing else left to say to his boyfriend and his best friend, he walked out of the living room, glancing at the wine he'd bought and the flowers he'd ordered three days beforehand.

" Steve - "

Steve turned around, and cut Bucky off before he could say anything, noticing that Bucky didn't look as contrite as he should have been. Bucky didn't even apologize for anything.

" I wanted to celebrate valentines' together. I wanted to tell you how important you are to me. I wanted to cook you dinner. I wanted to give you roses and see your smile. " He said, his voice deadly low as he flung the bouquet of roses at Bucky's feet before turning and sprinting out of Bucky's apartment before either Natasha or Bucky could deny the magnitude of the situation.

-

Steve shut the door of his own apartment behind him before he allowed himself to cry, but no tears came. His head felt oddly empty, his chest was numb, his heartbeat was strangely normal.

But Bucky.

He locked the door of the guest room - refusing to look at Bucky's easels and paints and pencils and frames and art materials any more.

He pulled down all the pictures on his fridge with Bucky in them - they went into a shoe box, Steve didn't want to have anything to do with Bucky any more.

He closed his piano and packed away every music score except the choir ones - he was supposed to play an entire repertoire for Bucky, but to hell with that now.

He shut the cabinet with all his video games and movies -  too many memories associated with Bucky, too many good memories.

He folded up all of Bucky's clothes and stacked them neatly at the back of his closet - if he tried hard enough, he could fully erase Bucky's presence from his home.

He picked up the camera lying on his dining table and put it in the guest room - he didn't want to learn how to take good photos any more, he didn't want to see anything related to Bucky.

He was done with Bucky. 

-

Steve had just removed his tie and set down his laptop bag when there was a knock on the door, three firm beats.

" What? " He asked curtly, staring at the two people he was least happy to see at this point. He'd rejected every single one of Bucky's calls and didn't reply to all sixty eight messages he'd received from Natasha.

" We need to talk things out, " Bucky said in a small voice, and Steve was glad he was so tired, for if he had any energy left, he would have felt sorry for his bloodshot eyes - pearly with sleeplessness.

" Okay, then talk. " Steve merely said, leaning against the door frame and folding his hands, crossing his legs at the ankles and raising an eyebrow while battling any emotion that tried to rise out of him.

Natasha would have none of it.

She shoved past Steve, motioning for Bucky to follow her, and Steve tried not to show his frustration as they barged into his living room. Closing the door behind him, he never let his poker face falter. " So what's up? Going to tell me I was hallucinating? Going to tell me this is some pre April Fools Day prank? Going to tell me Bucky has a secret twin who lives in his apartment?  " Steve challenged coldly, his hands balling into fists.

Natasha scrubbed a hand across her forehead.

" Steve, " Natasha began, pleadingly. " Whatever happened, he didn't initiate it. He didn't want to have sex with Pierce. Please believe - "

Steve laughed sarcastically and clapped his hands. " I'll believe you if you actually explained what the heck actually happened. Bucky? Nothing to say? "

The brunet was glaring at Steve. " I don't want to tell you. "

" Thanks. I believe you now. You're all innocent. Nothing happened. Life is great. You rock,  _babe_. "

It was a low blow, using the exact same name that Pierce had used on Bucky, but Steve didn't care. He wanted to justify his anger. He wanted to scream at Bucky. He wanted Bucky to at least apologize. He wanted Bucky to give him a reason why.

Bucky's face showed that he registered the hit, and his features contracted so that he looked almost predatory. In all other cases, Steve might've felt intimidated, but his anger spurred him on as he raised his chin.

" Okay. I'll tell you - "

" Bucky - "

" No, Natasha. If he wants to hear everything, I'll tell him everything. "

" Bucky - "

" You want to know why Pierce had his dick in me?  Well, I'll paint a full picture for you. " Bucky spat, shoving Natasha away as she made to grab his arm. His face was a mask of barely suppressed anger and loathing, and Steve blinked slowly.

" When i was teaching in my old school, Rebecca got diagnosed with leukaemia. She could be cured, but the medical bills were sky high. My mother worked two jobs to send her to university. She didn't have a scholarship. And her student loans were massive. When my sister told us she was sick, that was it. My mother was working to support Rebecca. I was working to pay our bills and put food on the table and give us a fucking roof over our heads. And then when I found out my sister was sick, we moved into a one bedroom, my mother extended her work hours, and I got a part time job for extra income.

" And in my old school, the pay was shit. But it was a stable income. And then Pierce, he was the dean of the school. Noticed when I kept taking days off to look after Rebecca. Noticed when I was constantly on the phone speaking to the doctors and nurses. So he offered me a deal.

" He told me he'd pay for Rebecca's bone marrow transplant. He told me he'd loan me enough money to cover Rebecca's expenses. Her therapy. Everything. And you know when people are desperate, they do desperate things. But I had to earn the money off him by sleeping with him. Every single day. But Rebecca was dying, and my mother worked more than 18 hours a day. I had no choice. So I did it. I left my part time so that I could sleep with Pierce whenever he wanted me to.

" He set me up. Every time I slept with him he'd give me two hundred dollars, and with the money I managed to settle Rebecca's medical bills. But they amounted to thirty thousand and five hundred dollars. So what did i do? I slept with him every single fucking day for half a damn year.

" There was no way out of this. Every time he had sex with me, the two hundred was a loan. He didn't pay me. Pierce loaned me the money in exchange for sex. But I was young, I was naive, I was desperate to save Rebecca and lessen the burden on my mother. So I  accepted. And when Rebecca finally became cancer free, she worked and studied so she could pay off her student loans. I forced my mum to quit one job because it was killing her.

" And i had no way to repay Pierce. No way. Whatever little money I earned was for bills and food. Whatever money my sister had was for student loans. Whatever money my dad left us was used to send me to university. Whatever money my mother had, was to make sure Rebecca could afford the books and resources she needed for school. That's it. That was all we could do.

" And I was neck deep in debt. I owed him so much money. Pierce wanted interest. I couldn't pay. So he told me to sleep with him, and each time I did, he'd knock a hundred dollars off the total amount I needed to pay. I had no choice, so I accepted this deal.

" And the thing is that even though I was knocking off a bit every day, the interest ensured me about two more years of sex before the count would go to zero. I couldn't do it. And that's when I started having anxiety issues. It dawned on me that I had to fuck this dude for more than a year just to repay a debt, and I was so scared of doing it. I couldn't do it.

" And then I was at the hospital sending Rebecca for a check up and I was crying in the waiting room all by myself. There was nothing for me to do. I couldn't earn enough to pay him off, and I didn't want to sleep with him. So I considered suicide. And guess what? I actually wanted to go through with it. Bought the pills, wrote a letter, apologised. The lot. 

" Pierce found out, and he told me that if I killed myself he'd go after my mother first, then Rebecca. And I knew I couldn't put them at risk, so I didn't do it. My sole motivation to keep living every day was so that my mother and my sister would be safe.

" But Natasha saved me. I told her everything, and I begged her for a solution. You know what Natasha did? She paid Pierce everything. She paid Pierce every single cent I owed him, and she got me a transfer here, and she found me an apartment with decent rent and a good paying position. I worked two jobs so I could pay her back, Steve. Natasha funded my counselling sessions, but I couldn't report Pierce for rape because I'd agreed to it. I had accepted his terms. So i tried to move on.

" If Natasha hadn't paid Pierce off, I wouldn't be alive today. I wouldn't be able to function as a human being. I wouldn't be able to form a coherent sentence. I wouldn't be able to walk without checking behind my back. So you're not allowed to feel as though Natasha is of higher priority than you are. Because she is. She saved me. She saved my goddamn life.

" And then recently Pierce found me again. I'd thrown away my phone when I paid him and packed my bags and left, but he somehow found me. He texted me my address. And then a picture of my car. But i only truly got scared when he started sending me pictures of you, Steve. 

" I got three pictures. One where we were walking out to the car park, one where we were at the park, and one of you walking Kat. He threatened to kill you if we didn't end things. That's why I wanted a break. That's why I was so distant. That's why I kept avoiding you. I didn't want you to get hurt. So even if it was at the expense of your happiness, I was at least consoled by the fact that at least, at least, at least, you were  _safe_. 

" And then a few days ago, he saw you paying the florist and pointing at roses, so he knew that you would probably come over on Valentines Day. So he came over and then he tackled me and forced me to have sex or else he'd kill you. And I know he was capable of murder, so I did it. I did it to make sure that you would be safe. And then you found me. You saw me and you didn't want to believe that I would never, ever cheat on you.

" You didn't trust me. You didn't trust me at all, Steve. After everything, you. didn't. trust. me. "

 

Bucky ended, his tone was clipped and his face was inches from Steve's, contorted with anger.

Steve reached up to cup Bucky's face, but Bucky flung his hand away. " Bucky, I'm so sorry. I didn't - "

" You didn't what? You didn't trust me. You didn't trust me, and there's no way you can deny this. You - I just - we... We're done. We're over. "

And And without another word, Bucky pushed Steve aside, wrenched open the door, and sped out of the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 2 weeks since my last update and I'm so sorry for the inactivity. to those who've stuck around and waited patiently for an update, thank you so much :-)
> 
> p.s. if you haven't seen beauty and the beast, or are planning to, WATCH THE MOVIE!! it was utterly phenomenal. 10/10 reccomend.
> 
> see y'all soon! x


	27. Chapter 27

Natasha recovered first, her chest heaving, as she sprinted out of the door, yelling Bucky's name at the top of her lungs, and after a second, Steve followed suit.

As he sprinted down the stairs, his foggy mind started to process the information Bucky had told him. Guilt blossomed at the bottom of his stomach like an evil flower and tendrils of regret curled upwards towards his throat.

Natasha was right.

None of it was Bucky's fault.

And Bucky had wanted to make sure Steve was safe.

Steve had punished Bucky for it.

Bucky had broken up with Steve.

The fight was Steve's fault.

He had forced the confession out of Bucky.

He was to blame, not Bucky.

-

" Bucky! " Natasha was screaming hoarsely, and the two of them were racing after Bucky, who still a few metres away from them. He was gaining speed, his arms were pumping faster, perhaps fuelled by anger at Steve. And then Bucky suddenly turned left, towards the intersection, and Steve suddenly saw what was going to happen just a split second before it did. Time seemed to slow down before his very eyes, and there was a white flash as -

" Bucky! " Natasha yelled again her voice cracking on the second syllable of his name, and Bucky hesitated for a split second, head whipping around just as his foot left the pavement. The truck wasn't speeding, but Bucky's sudden appearance in the middle of the road sent the driver slamming on the brakes. It was too late, he was too near, too near, too near, Bucky was not far enough and Steve was seeing white spots in his vision and his legs were propelling him forward and he saw his arm stretch outward in a desperate lunge -

There was a terrifying squeal of metal and rubber as Bucky was hit straight on, with no time for even a grunt as his body was flipped upwards like the most sickening display of ballet and landing in the opposite lane. And then Steve's mouth could barely form a scream when a bus on the other lane screeched to a stop, a hair-standing combination of swearing and the sound of tires in emergency stop mode, not before pinning Bucky's left arm between the windshield of the bus and the truck.

Bucky lay jammed between the two vehicles, already unconscious, his left arm coated with dark blood, his head lolling, his eyes closed. Someone 3 feet from Steve's left was screaming on the phone, calling for an ambulance, someone was crying, there was a massive circle of onlookers trying to push apart the bus and the truck and then as the blood pooled around Bucky's left side, Steve watched helplessly, in horror, as Bucky's lifeless body slid to the ground, his bloodied left arm still wrenched between the two vehicles.

 

-

 

Steve was completely numb as he rode in the ambulance, watching the blood pool at Bucky's side without really comprehending the situation, watching the oxygen mask on Bucky's face without understanding why, watching the paramedics move around skittishly without realising why they were doing so, watching the ambulance move to the hospital at top speed without formulating a reason why. 

"  _Bucky._  " 

Natasha, the ever strong, the ever cool-headed, the ever reliable one, was crying on the phone to Bucky's mother, and Steve, through his mind-numbing haze, couldn't really grasp why. He was trying to reach for the brunet, but his hands didn't move. He was trying to call out Bucky's name, but his mouth couldn't open. He was, he was, he was -

He sat on the plastic chairs outside the Accidents and Emergency Ward, staring at his hands, his shoulders hunched, staring glassily at everyone when they arrived. And then the one with the red hair was talking to the guy who looked familiar and everyone was looking shocked?

" Steve. "

Reality came back with a piercing rush as someone pinched his cheek and forced him to make eye contact. And then everything came hitting him in the face with the full force of reality. Wanda was sitting beside him with tears in her eyes. Clint was holding Natasha around the waist as she took deep breaths. Tony's face was as white as a sheet.

" Steve, what happened? "

And then Steve and Natasha took turns speaking, omitting everything Bucky had mentioned and choosing to gloss over with " a fight " before telling everyone how Bucky had broken up with Steve, how he'd sprinted out of the apartment, how Natasha had cried for him, how Steve had seen everything coming a second before it came, how Bucky was pinned, how Bucky had lost his left arm, how Natasha had called Bucky's mother.

Nobody said anything outright, but Steve knew that everyone, even Natasha blamed him for everything that had happened.

He blamed himself, too.

-

" We have good news and bad news. "

The doctor stepped out after four hours, and everyone immediately jerked up. Steve let his gaze remain cast downwards, not daring to look at anyone, and God forbid, Bucky's mother and Rebecca. They'd arrived an hour ago and Steve had told them everything. It was so obviously his fault that he didn't even retaliate when Rebecca had recovered first and spat, " Thank goodness he left you. My brother doesn't need another scumbag to wreck his life. "

Steve knew that this was 100% true. He knew it.

" Good news. " Bucky's mother quavered, her hands clenched into tight fists.

" He survived the accident and the surgery. "

" And the b-bad news? "

" He lost his left arm. And he's in a coma which he will be unlikely to wake up from. "

Natasha let out a choked gasp, Rebecca fell to her knees. But Steve only saw Bucky's mother burst into tears before she let out an ear-piercing scream that tore through every single one fibre of Steve's body. Tony's face was completely bloodless, and Wanda was crying into Sam's chest. Steve couldn't move. His head was on fire, his heart was being stabbed, his gut was being trampled on by wildebeests, his knees were shaking.

_I'm so sorry, Bucky._

On 15th February, Steve's heart shattered into a billion pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO before anyone comes knocking on my door with pitchforks, I'M SORRY.
> 
> i got lazy to edit the story and after a month or so, i just kind of forgot that this little fanfic even existed, to begin with. and this fic wouldn't have been continued if not for Mina ( hello!! *waves* ) who tracked me down via social media and reminded me of people who genuinely enjoy reading my work. so you have Mina to thank for the continuation of this story HAHA
> 
> special mention to my best friends steph and rell, both of whom were really excited ( at least pretended to be ;D ) when i announced that my fic was making a comeback.


	28. Chapter 28

_Bucky,_

_I'm sorry._

_Everything that happened is my fault. It's not yours._

_I'm so sorry for accusing you of cheating._

_I'm so sorry for not trusting you._

_I'm sorry our relationship had to end this way. You were one of the best things in my life, Bucky. When you smiled, the sun shone a little brighter. When you laughed, my life seemed a little better. When you sang, my troubles seemed a little more bearable. When you talked, my heart seemed a little lighter. You made every thing in my life better. You made me so happy._

_I don't know if there's a word in the English dictionary that existed that could properly convey exactly how sorry I am. I don't think there is, which is why I'm currently sitting on the floor of my apartment, clutching this pencil so hard it almost broke like the one I was using._

_And I want to tell you something I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to during our relationship. I've realised this ever since we were baking at Natasha's house. And I've never said it to anyone romantically, but I think I feel strongly about you enough to say it in this letter. And I want you to know that I mean it with every fibre of my being. Every cell in my body. I mean it in all sincerity._

_I love you, Bucky._

_Yours,_   
_Steve._

 

 

 

 

 

_16th February_

_dear Bucky,_

_today's the second day of you being in a coma with the loss of your arm, a cracked rib and a hip injury. I can't imagine the pain that you're going through right now. it must be excruciatingly horrible. but I would be willing to bear all of it for you. multiply two times, ten times, a hundred, a thousand, million just to give you the smallest measure of relief._

_I miss you, Buck. I miss the smell of your hair and the feeling of your hand in mine and the sound of you snorting and your singing whenever we do a duet. I'm sorry you're in a hospital room with ten million machines hooked up to you. I'm sorry you're all alone in your suffering. I'm sorry I didn't trust you._

_Natasha and I spoke to the cops, I'm your key witness and I've testified. When you wake up, take Pierce down to hell. He deserves whatever he will get, but you don't deserve whatever you got._ _Stay strong, Bucky, I believe in you._

_I always did._

_I always will._

_And I've given some thought to the three words I said in my previous letter, and I realised that I've never meant something so much. I'm terrified because I've never felt like this with anyone else before. Right now it feels as though my soul has split into half because I want you to tell me again that you will always protect me. I want you to hug me and make me laugh and stroke my hair._

_I want you to tell me you love me, just like how I'm telling you now that_

_I love you, Bucky._

_Yours,_   
_Steve._

 

 

 

 

 

_17th February_

_Dear Bucky,_

_I wish I never knew you. I wish we never talked. I wish we never became friends. I wish we never dated. I wish I never kissed you. I wish we never met._   _I wish I never played the piano for you. I wish we never took pictures together. I wish nothing ever happened between the two of us._

_I wish you never knew me._

_If you didn't would you be in this state?_

_I can't believe that despite all the pain and dilemma you've gone through in the past, your smile still shines as bright as day, your eyes still hold the universe, your personality is as kind as anyone's can be. you are the light, Bucky. you sparkle like a thousand stars. you shine like a spotlight in the theatre. you glow with the radiance of the sun. you glimmer like a lighthouse in a storm._

_You are warm summer days, the thunderstorm at night, the morning dew, the smell of pine trees, the feel of warm sunshine, the sound of the howling wind, the taste of sun sweet berries, the sound of laughter, the starry sky at night, the flicker of candlelight, the rising sun and the darkest night._

_And I love you, Bucky._

_Yours,_   
_Steve._

 

 

 

 

 

_18th February_

_Dear Bucky,_

_Three days. It's been three days. Three days of torture. Three days of pure torture. Three days of pure red hot torture. Three days of excruciating pure red hot torture. Three days of utter excruciating pure red hot torture._

_And it's not the same reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets to you when you have a battalion of machines and wires and equipment hooked up to you instead of when you're lying with your head in my lap and telling me my impression of Dumbledore's voice is spot on. It's not the same sitting beside you and sketching when you're not there to fiddle with my markers and pick the colour you want me to use. It's not the same buying bagels and drinking tea in the morning when I'm holding one cup instead of two, and a small bag instead of the medium sized one. It's not the same waking up with the other side of the bed cold and empty._

_I would give it all up. I would trade away every single one of my happy memories and happy days just so that you could wake up. I would throw away every single happy memory and happy day to make sure you can enjoy yours. because you deserve it. you deserve the world._

_I love you, Bucky._

_Yours,_   
_Steve._

 

 

 

 

 

_20th February_

_Dear Bucky,_

_Five days._

_Please, Bucky. You made me feel like the happiest person in the universe on so many occasions. You made me feel like the luckiest guy in the world on so many occasions. You made me feel like the most appreciated man in the whole country. Now, Bucky, please please please please please, make me the most ecstatic person in the galaxy by waking up._

_Even if you never want to speak to me, or have anything to do with me, or even look me in the eye, it's okay. It's okay because all I ever want and need is for you to be okay._

_I want you to know that I would freeze hell and burn heaven and make the seas catch fire and make the mountains turn to stone if you could be okay. I just hope that now, you're not in pain. You don't feel this scalding pain that grips me every time I walk in here and look at all the tubes and wires and machines._

_I never wanted you to get into this mess, and I'm sorry. I know I've said it 3000 times, but I will say it again. I am so so sorry, and I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me someday._

_I love you, Bucky._

__Yours,_   
_Steve._ _

 

 

 

 

 

_19th February_

_Dear Bucky,_

_I don't know why I keep writing to you even though you might not want to have anything to do with me. But I talked to you so much, this silence is an enormous void in my heart._

_For the past three days, I've sat at your bedside, planning lessons and answering emails and reading Harry Potter to you until visiting hours. Everyone is still mad at me, I think, and I don't blame them. I don't blame them. I don't ask for your forgiveness because what I have done is unforgivable._

_Natasha's banned me from coming to visit you because she says I don't deserve to. We fought, and she agreed to keep my letters to pass to you when you wake up. But it hurts even more to sit outside your room every spare moment I have until visiting hours are over._

_I could sit by your bedside and read to you, but now my glimpses of you are restricted to whenever nurses go into your room to check on you. Just twelve seconds total yesterday. Today I got 18 seconds. That's all I get. It's more than I deserve. I miss you, Bucky. Every day I sit at the bench outside your room and I pray to a God I don't believe in that you'll wake up._

_I don't know how I could live with myself if you didn't._

_I love you, Bucky._

_Yours,_   
_Steve._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI EVERYONE
> 
> thank you for 4.5k reads :-)
> 
> also major shoutout to steph thanks for reminding me to update because i toTALLY FORGOT TO HAHAHAHA


	29. Chapter 29

 

_20th February_

_Dear Bucky,_

_Warm summer sun, shine kindly here._   
_Warm southern wind, blow softly here._   
_Green sod above, lie light, lie light._   
_Goodnight, dear heart. Goodnight, goodnight._

_Dan Forrest._

_Absence makes the heart grow fonder. I've never believed how exactly true this saying was, but after 2 encounters exactly, I will not now, not ever underestimate it again. The first was when Natasha left when we were teenagers and when I met her in the staff room after so many years. The second is when I realise I talk to you every single day, and now your silence and a glimpse of you every three hours is all I am left with._

_I don't know if Natasha reads these letters, but I don't mind. I just wish there was this word in the dictionary that can accurately describe how much I long to hold your hand and kiss your forehead._

_I'm so sorry, Bucky. None of this was your fault. None of this mess was caused by you. None of this shit happened because of what you did._

_I'm sorry._

_I love you, Bucky._

_Yours,_   
_Steve._

 

 

 

 

_21st February_

_Dear Bucky,_

_max once asked me if I could have three wishes, what would I spend them on. and I think I'd use one to wake you up, another to remove all of your pain and injuries and the last, to make sure you'll be safe and happy for all the rest of your days._

_I never sleep at night. I can't stop thinking about what I forced you to say, how your heart broke when I did, how you got hit by the truck, how huge the pool of blood was, how loudly I screamed your name, how much I cried when i got home, how angry your mother was at me, how Natasha told me she hated me, how you lay with so many machines, how you looked so beautiful even with the scars, how your heartbeat was the most soothing rhythm I've heard ever._

_When you told me we were over, my heart smashed into smithereens. my heart broke into a million pieces. my heart cracked and the lines looked like a spiderweb. my heart fell into the depths of despair and never returned._

_But that's okay. I'd rather die tomorrow with this heartache than live for a thousand years without knowing how painful it is to love someone, and how great it feels to be cared about. to be told I matter._

_break my heart, bucky. do it over and over again. it was only ever yours to break anyway._

_I love you, bucky._

_yours,_   
_steve._

 

 

 

 

_22nd February_

_Dear Bucky,_

_Everything reminds me of you._

_The woman with the shoulder length brown hair that walked past me when i was exercising today._

_The boy with the exact same chocolate coloured irises that asked me why i looked sad when i was buying dinner._

_The man who was wearing a white v neck that looked like the one that belonged to me but ended up becoming your favourite shirt._

_The girl whose cheekbones and jawline did nothing except remind me of your equally prominent cheekbones and well angled jawline._

_The old man who was busking on the street, singing with a brilliant falsetto just like yours._

_The old lady at the cashier in the grocery store with the same smile that you have, the one that makes problems disappear._

_everything reminds me of you._

_i wish i could see you again, just to hold your hand and read Harry Potter together as I listen to the steady beeping of the monitor that records your heart rate. just one time, and then I'll be content to sit outside like i do every day with a few seconds to glance into the room where you are._

_just one more time._

_i love you, Bucky._

_Yours,_   
_Steve_

 

 

 

 

_-_

Steve slammed the laptop shut the minute the nurse appeared, chewing on a pencil and holding a red clipboard, her golden hair tied neatly in a bun at the nape of her neck.

" Hey, uh, " Steve paused, glanced at the name tag over her heart  _Sharon,_ " Sharon. May I go in? " his voice was shaking slightly and his hands were clenching and unclenching nonstop. He was sure he looked like shit - what with his limp hair and massive eye bags and his hollow cheeks. Sharon looked up in confusion, before she quickly slipped between him and the door, ready to deny him entrance.

Of course, both Bucky's mother and Natasha had informed the staff that he wasn't allowed in.  _Of course, they did._

" Mr Rogers, you are not allowed to enter - " Sharon's voice was a lilting soprano, and it would be a lovely, pleasant sound if she wasn't currently looking as though she would knee Steve in the groin with no hesitation. Steve's eyes filled with tears like it always did so frequently now, and he ran a hand through his hair before taking out his cheque book.

" One thousand. Please,  _please,_ just let me see Bucky for five minutes.  _Please._  "

" Mr Rogers, I am authorised to call security if you attempt to breach with the use of for- "

Steve's throat was thick. His breaths were coming out hitched and his heart ached. He didn't know how to tell Sharon that all he wanted was to go in and read to Bucky for a while, to hold his hand and to look at the peaceful, tranquil face of the one person who was the light of his life. That was all he wanted. Nothing more, nothing less. 

And he only realised that he had said it out loud when Sharon's eyes filled with sympathy and she put a comforting hand on his.

" Mr Rogers - "

" Steve. Um, i meant, I'm Steve. "

" Steve - "

" One thousand five hundred. S-Sharon, I'm begging you,  _please. "_

Steve had never felt so naked in his life, towering over a blonde nurse who stood as though she was ready to beat him up, yet was resting an arm on his. And his voice sounded so defenceless. And raw. And sad. And pathetic. And hurt. And lonely.

Steve shook his head when she opened her mouth. " 'S okay, Sharon, " he muttered, brushing away the tear that threatened ominously to escape. He took a few steps away and resumed sitting on the vacant bench outside Bucky's room and rested his head against the wall, clenching tightly at the fabric of his shirt and trying to remember a country starting with every alphabet until his tears would  _just fucking recede for one second until Sharon fucking left._

But she didn't.

She sat down primly beside him and crossed her legs at the ankles and whispered, " my boss walked past when she saw you asking. Her break is in forty-five minutes. " Steve glanced up only to catch her wink at him, before she said loudly, " sorry, Mr Rogers, the protocol is protocol. "

And as she left, Steve couldn't help shooting her a grateful look as he brushed a hand along his eyes and smiled at his feet.

Sharon reappeared exactly forty-seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds later, and Steve shot to his feet immediately, cheque held at the ready. Sharon smiled at the cheque, took it, gazed at the numbers before folding it and tucking it back into his shirt pocket, shaking her head slowly. " Five minutes. One time. " She instructed, and Steve nodded.

And Sharon opened the door.

Steve walked in as quietly as he could. Bucky's bedside was a riot of colour of flowers and balloons and cards, but Steve didn't pay attention. His eyes were only for the brunet lying the middle, serenaded by the constant whir and hum of his machines. Bucky looked even paler and gaunt than he had a mere few days ago. Someone had shaved for him, and Steve ran a gentle finger down the cut on his jawline.

" Hey Buck, " he said quietly, his voice cracking with emotion as he gazed at the left side of Bucky's body, blankets tucked skillfully so that his injury was not visible.

He reached for the limp hand resting beside him and threaded his fingers through Bucky's significantly colder ones as he battled tears. He'd promise himself that he wouldn't cry and that he'd make the most out of this encounter. And then he pulled out the copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone and balanced it un such a way that he could still turn the well-worn pages with one hand without dropping the book.

" Mr and Mrs Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, " he began, using the slow, careful tone that Bucky seemed to love. " thank you very much. "

Bucky's heart rate jumped slightly, but Steve didn't notice.

He continued to read to Bucky, using a high pitched faux British accent when Petunia spoke and rotating to something more low and nasal when Vernon Dursley replied, and for a moment Steve could pretend that Bucky was just lying on his sofa, eyes closed, enjoying the sound of Steve's voice, and they had just eaten a lot of garlic bread, and they were having an amazing time together.

He managed to finish the first nine pages before Sharon knocked on the door softly and stepped into the room, an apologetic expression on her face. Steve took his cue to leave and pressed his lips to Bucky's knuckles before letting go of the now warmer hand and pressing the most tender kiss he could manage on Bucky's forehead, brushing away his tear that landed on Bucky's eyelid.

 _That wasn't enough time!_  He wanted to scream at Sharon, but as she escorted him out of the room, he realised he'd been in there for ten minutes. That was double the time he'd asked for.

He was so preoccupied that when Sharon stopped dead in her tracks, he actually collided with her. She grabbed his arm to steady him, and Steve almost peed himself when he saw Natasha standing outside, head cocked, arms akimbo, a murderous glare on her face.

" Ms Carter, did Mrs Barnes and I not emphasise to you - "

Steve saw Sharon lower her head in shame, and stepped in front of her. " Please, Natty. It was me, I wanted to see Bucky for five m-minutes. " he pleaded, his eyes filling with tears and his voice shaking madly. Natasha gave Sharon a dirty look and dragged Steve to the car park so she could shout at him in private.

When they were alone, Steve braced himself for a verbal attack and cowered under the glare Natasha was giving him. " I'm sorry, " he squeaked, not meeting her eyes.

" First, you crushed him when you refused to believe him. Second, you told him to fuck off to hell where he came from the next day in school. Then, he convinces me to accompany him so he could talk things out with you but you forced a confession out of him anyway. Next, you fought with him, causing him to be so desperate that he ran away and got hit by a damn truck. After that, he lost his  _left arm_ and he's in a goddamn coma. If that isn't bad enough, Mrs Barnes already told you you're not allowed to visit. And then you think you have all the right to breach this and enter anyway? Don't you know your limits, Steve? " Natasha asked, her voice soft and deadly.

Steve flinched.

" Steve, I'm begging you. Please, " Natasha inhaled deeply and pressed her fingers to her temples, " the only reason why I'm doing this is that Bucky's mum asked me to. I'm sorry things ended up with you having to sneak in to see Bucky, but she entrusted her son to me, and I have to make sure her orders are carried out. "

Steve couldn't speak without bursting into sobs, so he clamped his tongue between his teeth and nodded.

Natasha walked away, her hips swaying, her head held high.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	30. Chapter 30

" Hey, um. " Steve stood in front of everyone as Natasha called for sushi take out for lunch. All heads snapped in his direction - he'd not spoken a single word to anyone unless directly spoken to except Natasha, and everyone had left him well alone when he finally told them to. The black and white gradient of the A4 poster in his hands calmed him slightly, and he swallowed before turning to everyone.

" Hi, so um as you all know, I've been playing the piano accompaniment for this choir because of their concert, and um, " Steve swallowed roughly again, then held up the poster. " Is anyone interested in buying tickets? "

Wanda took the flyer from him. " I'd like a premium ticket. The one that costs thirty bucks. "

Steve smiled gratefully at the brunette as she peeled off her post it and wrote her name carefully at the top, before passing it to Natasha, who had stretched out her hand, and one by one everyone bought tickets, and one post it became two.

Nobody mentioned Bucky.

But Natasha bought an extra one.

-

Natasha invited Steve over for a picnic with Clint and Kat so that Steve didn't need to spend every evening at the hospital sitting on the uncomfortable wooden bench with his fingers freezing. Steve had become great friends with Sharon, but Natasha hadn't quite forgiven her for caving in the beginning.

Steve was throwing a small yellow rubber toy for Kat to fetch, doing his level best to maintain a smile despite the fact that this park was the exact same one Bucky and him had a picnic at one too many times. Both of his friends knew, but neither mentioned anything about the obvious wet blanket he was being, and proceeded with the dividing of pasta and uncorking of wine as though everything was perfectly normal.

" Hey, did I tell you that Tony sent - speak of the devil. Hey Tony! Hey Pepper! " Clint shouted enthusiastically at the top of his lungs, waving madly at Tony and Pepper, both holding baskets and picnic mats. It was late February, and winter had subsided enough and summer had returned enough so that it was sunny, but still pleasantly cold.

Kat bounded over, and in the fourteen seconds as everyone fussed over the dog hair in the fruit salad, Natasha reached over and slipped Steve a silver flask. It was their childhood thing - to steal the flask from Natasha's father, and whoever was in dire need of it could take exactly three swigs.

Steve drained the flask.

And as Pepper and Tony settled beside them and they clinked glasses and they shared strawberries with melted dark chocolate and fought over the last burrito and all of them fed Kat some nasty smelling biscuits and Clint tried to trick Tony into eating one and they all watched the sun set and Natasha lay on her back with her head in Clint's lap and Tony massaged Pepper's shoulders, Steve couldn't help missing Bucky even more, gazing at his happy friends and wondering how to pick up the broken pieces of his heart.

And when he returned home, he listened to Vivaldi's Spring - Bucky's favorite song ever, and then he wrote another letter to the love of his life.

 

-

 

 

Natasha's cheeks were rouged pink, but Steve still saw how they seemed to drain visibly of blood when she put down the phone, her unoccupied fist clenched and her breaths uneven.

" Who was it? " Steve asked anxiously, muting the TV as Clint pried the phone away from his speechless wife and glanced down. Steve gazed at the man, perplexed until dread pooled in his gut when Clint's jaw dropped open and he began to physically force Natasha to stand and wear her jacket.

" The doctor's called. Bucky's heart rate is dropping. It might be his last hour alive. " Clint said, his voice shaky as Natasha shook herself and searched for her car keys.

Steve didn't move, even when Clint swept him over his shoulder and into their car, he was wordless. His ears were ringing. His mind was spinning. His heart was hammering. His chest was contracting. His breathing was quickening.

_His Bucky was dying._

The drive to the hospital was short, and after he managed to rein in his tears, called  Bucky's sister and told her the news. Clint ran a red light, and Steve couldn't help hoping that somehow,  _somehow,_ Bucky would be okay. It had been three agonizing weeks of pure torture, and Steve had kept vigil outside his room faithfully every single day, praying to any God he knew, begging them to spare Bucky, to give this brunet angel just one chance.

Steve knew that there was nothing he could do except hope.

Yet how could he hope, when the single person who defined hope in his life was dying? Pain racked Steve mercilessly, a red hot fire burning at his tailbone, spreading excruciatingly to the back of his neck and morphed into a cruel inferno that beat relentlessly onto Steve, making him scream in his head as knives pierced his skull and every cell in his body burned with a ferocity that left him shaking.

Sharon was waiting for them, and the minute she spotted Natasha's red hair, she waved to them and as if on cue, all of them broke into a sprint, shoes screeching loudly on the floor as Sharon led the way to Bucky's room. Natasha's sandals slapped noisily across the floor as they chose to run up the staircase, and Steve dimly registered the physical exertion that seemed to make the pain worse.

And then they stopped.

The glass window was three metres across and one metre down, and Steve roughly shoved his way past Thor and Tony so he could press his face to the glass and and and and and and and....

_Bucky._

He was lying on the gurney, a battalion of machines surrounding him and Steve's heart gave an almighty lurch when he took in the stump of Bucky's left shoulder, the skin grafts that stretched over the mutilated bone, the white and red scars that stretched over looking like a spiderweb, wrapping past Bucky's collarbone and extending down to his chest. It was grotesque, and Steve bit his lip so hard it bled.

Bucky was lying motionless, there were defibrillators at the ready, and Steve could hear how Bucky's heartbeats slowed, how his face still looked youthful and vibrant, and how the curve of his jaw still reminded Steve of the stubble he loved.

" Get out of the way! "

Steve was shoved aside and he could see Mrs Barnes standing at the glass, her breath steaming up the window, tears streaming down her cheeks as Wanda wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.

The beeping slowed.

Steve clenched his fist so tight that his palm started bleeding. This couldn't happen. Bucky couldn't die. Bucky musn't die.

Natasha was leaning on Clint's shoulder her face white and her brows pinched, and for a moment, Steve lost control of his emotions and allowed a single tear to trickled down his cheek.

The beeping slowed even more.

 _if Bucky wakes up,_ Steve found himself praying desperately.  _i won't ever initiate a conversation with him ever again._

 _if Bucky wakes up,_  Steve begged mentally,  _i won't try to talk to him again._

 _if Bucky wakes up,_ Steve suppressed a choked sob,  _i promise i will..._

Rebecca was screaming at the top of her lungs, trying to enter the room, and Thor was holding her back forcefully, trying his best to restrain the girl as she fought vehemently, refusing to accept that the beeping had stopped.

Natasha, ever stoic, allowed herself one sob before she pressed her forehead on the glass, her chest heaving and her hair in a mess.

Steve didn't really know exactly how the world would end, if it suddenly would just become a void, or if it would come in fire and blazing rocks, or if it would come like a mist that claimed everyone, but now he did. His world came to an end, and it wasn't a tsunami or a whirlpool or an explosion.

It was like scalding knives bearing into his body, stabbing mercilessly, leaving him screaming for relief. Bucky breaking up with him? compared to this it was lying on velvety bed with feather pillows. Bucky getting hit? compared to this it was floating in a pool of cool water. Bucky in a coma? compared to this, it was a walk in the park.

 _Thi_ s was the fact that the machine had stopped beeping, and Bucky was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can hear steph screaming in the distance... and getting ready her pitchforks...and taking an uber to my house to hunt me down... and i can hear rell going like " oh mY GOD WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU DO THIS "... and picking up her phone to yell at me... and cancelling our friendship...
> 
> bring on the angst, give me your worst. HAHAHA


End file.
